


Falling Slowly

by ChoicesHolic



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels), choicesfandom
Genre: Doctors & Physicians, F/M, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChoicesHolic/pseuds/ChoicesHolic
Summary: Ethan Ramsey is secure in himself. He is one the country's best diagnostician's and easily loves being at the hospital more than his own home. The mystery of his patient's excites him, there is so much to learn and to achieve. He puts forth his energy into them instead of investing time in making relationships with his colleagues. He doesn't see an error in his ways, everything that he does is what makes him a great doctor. Every decision is precise.Then, Leah Remini comes along - a first year intern. Initially, he sees her as nothing more than someone with great potential. But, as the weeks go by and the find themselves in peculiar situations, he starts to realize that the wall he has built is slowly being taken down. It's a great struggle to remain professional with the woman who impresses him at every chance she gets.
Relationships: Bryce Lahela/Main Character (Open Heart), Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart), Ethan Ramsey/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> So, I would like to say that I decided to rewrite my original story (Rookie Mistake) and make this. I felt as though I made Ethan a little too emotional off the bat and that wasn't true to his character. Anyways, if you see any "repeating" lines or paragraphs it's just because I liked those from the original and decided to keep them! 
> 
> I hope you all like this new version, thanks for reading!

The waiting room was eerily quiet today, quiet enough to make Ethan ponder why his presence was even needed here. He contemplates leaving, for he has actual patients to attend to, but Harper and him had negotiated a deal; he’d take the morning shift in exchange for not having to endure the insufferable yearly intern speech. At this point he wonders if, miraculously, the speech would’ve been better. 

The hospital has been pummeled with numerous complaints about the lack of care given to the waiting rooms. The receptionists are always cranky, the chairs too stiff, doctors lollygagging instead of promptly seeing their patients whose time is precious. In order to counteract these remarks, the Chief of Medicine put in place a new guideline; which insisted on at least one physician being at-hand available at all times for the patients’ comfort. One glance around the, almost barren, room made Ethan realize that people just always have something to complain about.

He excuses himself, though the receptionist is too busy playing solitaire to notice, and heads towards the employee bathroom to kill some time. He washes his hands slowly, gazing at the soap suds that foam around his wrists. Today is one of the most dreaded days for him as a doctor, the day where eager-eyed interns swarm the halls in hopes of impressing everyone they interact with. He isn’t the only attending that they all but praise, but it surely doesn’t help his case that he is one of the highest-ranking diagnostician’s in the country. He’s had interns follow his every movement, one even trying to replicate his demeanor. It angers him, the inauthenticity of it all. He silently prays to whoever is listening that at least one turns out somewhat bearable. 

He enters the waiting room just in time to watch as a woman suddenly falls to the ground, gasping brutally for air. As if in a movie, everyone turns perfectly still, gawking at the horrific sight. Before Ethan can clear the way someone else’s voice is yelling, “Everybody, step back! I’m a doctor!”

He doesn’t have time to asses who blurted that out, for he is already in the process of kneeling besides the unconscious woman. He expertly puts his fingers to her carotid artery, cursing at how slow it is. “Pulse is weak. She’s unresponsive,” he informs the growing crowd of nurses behind him.

He searches for the person responsible of the exclamation of being a doctor, and his eyes fall on a young blonde in neat scrubs a few feet back from the patient. “You. Rookie. Get in here,” he orders, eyes falling back to the woman he’s attending to. 

“Coming!” She quickly makes her way over as he heaves the patient carefully onto the gurney that the nurse has brought over. 

“What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?” He questions the nurse, Danny, who masks his bewilderment with a well-trained face. 

“No, she’d just walked in,” he briefs.

Ethan can feel his anger starting boil, if he had just stayed in the room a little longer he might’ve been able to foreseen the abrupt demise of the helpless woman in front of him. “If we don’t figure out what’s wrong with her fast, she’s gonna die on this table!” He snaps in a bout of irritation. 

Shaking his head, he forces himself to simmer down. He cannot let himself become blind with rage if he wants this woman to live. “Rookie, check her B.P.,” his tone is much softer this time around.

She reacts briskly, swiftly wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the patient’s arm and pumping the bulb until she gets the correct numbers. Her face drops, indicating that what she sees isn’t   
good news. “It’s plummeting. She’s hypotensive. We’ve gotta get fluids in her,” her voice is on the rise to becoming panicky, and that is the absolute last thing Ethan needs.

He diligently examines Danny’s handiwork as he places an I.V into the patient’s pronounced vein. A nasty bruise rapidly forming on her elbow catches Ethan’s attention. He hurriedly inspects the rest of her body for other clues, gulping when he finds her fingertips have gone blue. All the symptoms flash through his head instantly, all swirling around various diagnosis’ until it lands on the one that fits best: a hemothorax. He clenches his jaw to refrain from revealing his discovery, hoping that the Rookie will figure it out soon. Unfortunately for her, this is the perfect time to test her capabilities. 

The woman finds Rookie’s hand, clutching at it weakly. Ethan sees the moment Rookie catches the miss-colored fingertips, her eyes darting to the bruised elbow next. “Doctor! Look at this bruise,” she gestures towards the elbow, “it wasn’t there a moment ago.”

“You’re sure?” He asks, measuring her confidence. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” she states without missing a beat.

He shoots her a small, encouraging smile. “That’s the elbow she landed on when she fell. A bruise forming that fast would suggest this woman is a hemophiliac. Good catch,” he gingerly lifts the patient’s hand that she is still holding on to, “also, see her fingertips? Low oxygen saturation in her blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry.”

Letting go of the patient’s hand delicately, she pulls out her stethoscope and places it over the patient’s ribcage. “I can’t hear anything on her left side! And he right lung is struggling!” Her eyes dart to the patient’s face in a flash of horror. “Doctor, she’s going to suffocate!”

He grants her the brief time needed to veer herself off the ledge of hysteria. She takes deep, shuddering breaths in a victorious attempt of composing herself. Ethan takes note on her ability to relax in the midst of chaos. Admittedly, she is doing very well for her first day. He half expected her to be throwing up right about now. 

“Nurse, we’ve got a code blue,” he alerts Danny, who in return hands him a bag mask that he swiftly places over the patient’s face, pushing air into her lungs with steady pumps. 

Rookie was teetering towards emotional distress again as she stands immobilized. “What do we do, Doctor? What’s happening to her?” 

“Consider all the clues. It’s all here. You know this, Rookie,” his tone is amiable, and he is hoping that his cool composure will influence her.

“It’s.. it’s, uh…,” she closes her eyes momentarily, anchoring her racing mind. Ethan’s gaze rest on her face as it begins to scrunch up in deep concentration. Her mouth is moving with her internal thoughts, her eyebrows furrowed to the point that it looks painful.

Realization slaps her firmly across the face, “It’s a hemothorax!”

“Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity-,” he begins before the Rookie interjects. 

“-blocking her lungs from expanding! That’s why she can’t breathe!” Ethan normally doesn’t like to be interrupted, but she seems so relieved with her resolve that he shrugs it off this time.

He gives her a moment to bask in the confidence that she’s developed before sending her through another loop. “We’ll have to do an emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!” time’s over. 

Danny hands off a scalpel and chest tube to the Rookie, who takes it with hesitant hands. Ethan lifts the patient’s shirt up so that her ribcage is exposed and, as best as he can, thoroughly cleans it with a disinfectant swab. The circumstance is obviously not favorable, for he doesn’t have a sterile field, but there is no time to get her to an operating room. This will just have to do.

“We need local anesthetic-,”

“We’re outta time! Do it now, or this woman’s life is on you!” Ethan is growing anxious; he can’t have an unsure intern potentially killing this woman because she can’t control her unease. 

The Rookie shoots him look, her eyes swimming with fret, as she cautiously approaches the patient. Her bottom lip is quivering, and he can barely make out the sound of her voice muttering something indecipherable. Her hand shakes as she hovers it just above the patient’s body. Without thinking he reaches out and gingerly places his hand over hers, steadying it with his practiced one.

“Hey… you can do this,” he whispers reassuringly in her ear, hoping that having his voice so close will make her forget there is other people in the room. 

She inhales sharply, eyes squeezed shut and lips pulled in. When she reopens her eyes, she is notably more placid. Her hand relaxes to the point where Ethan is comfortable with withdrawing his. “There you go. Nice and easy,” he soothes.

He nearly sighs in relief when the incision is made without error.

“Now the tube,” Ethan guides her as they insert the tube together, blood rushes through it in a sign of success. The patient inhales sharply, and reliefs flood Ethan like a broken dam.

“We.. we did it!” The Rookie is beaming, her tone filled with triumph. Beads of sweat have formed on her hairline and her ponytail isn’t nearly as neat as it had been. She has the intern look, and within a few years she’ll come out of difficult cases looking the same as when she went into them.

“She’s stable. Get her into surgery… She’s gonna make it,” he instructs the slew of nurses who promptly do as told. A roar of applause echoes throughout the room from the onlookers who watched the whole debacle go down. Ethan sighs in annoyance at the absurd reaction.

He goes to fill out paperwork when the Rookie’s voice halts him in his tracks. “Doctor… that was… absolutely amazing!” She is high on adrenaline, her smile nearly stretching to both ears.

She is right, it was an amazing first case for an intern, a case that she should absolutely be proud of. The only problem being that she can easily let this first save go straight to her head. Ethan has seen this many times; eager intern’s getting lucky on their first try and engulfing themselves in the idea that they are invincible. As one might predict, that never leads into something good. Ethan refuses to let that happen to this girl who has proven herself to be adept.

“You’re right. It’s pretty amazing you didn’t get her killed,” his words instantly made her face falter.

“Wait, what?” her tone is incredulous. 

“Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best…,” 

He is subtly studying her, curious to see how she will deal with a challenging interpersonal situation that isn’t life or death. “I’m sorry, Doctor. It’s my first day,” her voice is small, head hanging. 

He was definitely hoping for a little more fire in her response. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize. I’m certain that excuse would’ve comforted the woman’s family, Doctor..,” he examines her name badge for the final blow, “… Remini.”

He saunters away, well are of the Rookie glaring daggers into his back. It doesn’t concern him that she might find him to be an ass now, he’d rather their relationship towards one another be built on the shared interest of medicine, than a creating a friendship. Interns need to be able to discern the boundaries between them and attending’s. Attendings are here to mentor them, and if the lines are to become blurred it can lead into something entirely preventable. Something Ethan grimaces at the mere thought.

He can’t help but to feel uncertain about one thing though: that name, Remini. It is an uncommon name, and maybe that is why it’s stuck out to him. Although, he is almost certain that he has heard it before today. He tries to rummage through his memory as if repeating her name consistently will awaken something buried away. He shrugs it off, telling himself if it is that important it will dawn on him sooner or later. 

***

Ethan has a running bet with three of the nurses on the ACE (Acute Care of the Elderly) floor. It all started after the fifth time a patient named Barbara had been admitted at the hospital. She was pleasant enough the first four times she stayed, always giving out mints to the staff and telling sweet stories of her deceased husband, Patrick. That is, until the fifth time she came in and suddenly it was as though she flipped a switch. She became irritable, barking at the nurses she once showed pictures of her grandchildren to and refusing to eat if she didn’t like the choices given.

When the bet first initiated, Ethan wanted nothing to do with it. He was displeased with the nurses for putting down money at a patient’s expense. It was utterly unethical and disheartening. Each time Barbara was readmitted they’d ask if he had changed his mind, each time he slammed the door in their face. Ethan begrudgingly started to see the appeal in this idiotic bet, and what really sealed the deal was when Barbara did the unthinkable. 

For the most part Barbara had taken a liking in him. She’d give him endearing names and hand him sweets like she used to do. The nurses were convinced that he was trying to pull a fast one of them when he would give updates. ‘That’s not like her, something has to be up’ they would huff, not-so-subtly peering into the room whenever he was checking in on her. He came to terms with nurses being delusional, for the sweet old lady wouldn’t even hurt a fly…

And then she bit him.

Out of blue, too. He was leaning over with the stethoscope to determine the state of her lungs when he felt something sharp and slimy latch onto the skin right above his wrist. He yanked his arm free, eyes bulging at the woman who was in the process of wiping spit off her lips. “What the hell, Barb?!” He bellowed.

“That thing was freezing! Warm it up next time!” She snarled, lips curling into her teeth.

That was the day Ethan decided that the bet wasn’t so unscrupulous after all and handed Marissa a five-dollar bill as he passed her in the hall. Now, whenever Barbara is readmitted they all put in another five-dollars, waiting to see who will win – if ever. The bet is to see if there will come a day that Barb reverts to her pleasant self, whoever gets her to that point wins. So far the loot is up to nearly a hundred bucks. 

Natalia was the one to break the news that Barbara is back to Ethan. He lets out a deep sigh as he slaps the money into her hand. “How bad is it this time?” He asks, already pinching the bridge of his nose in anticipation. 

“Same thing as yesterday,” Natalia grimaces.

There is so many different things Barb has complained about that it takes Ethan a minute to sort through which one is most recent. “She’s refusing to take her medicine, again?” He had to call one of her grandchildren to talk her into it last time.

“It’s always something new to her,” she says in the direction of Barb’s room, annoyance crystal clear in her tone. 

Ethan glances in the direction as well, only to lock eyes with a curly-haired intern whose face looks stricken in disbelief. He recognizes the Rookie from earlier standing next to him, still blabbering away in complete unawareness of her slack-jawed friend. Ethan can’t make out what they are saying at his distance, but by the way her eyebrows knit together he can tell that she finally reconnected with real life. Curly lifts a jittery finger at Ethan, and the Rookie follows its direction, stopping dead at the sight of him standing there. 

He really isn’t in the mood to be dealing with childish interns at the moment, so he heads towards Barbara’s room hoping that they disperse at his approach. The Rookie looks aghast at his nearing figure, while Curly maintains the statuesque composure. He ponders if he has enough authority to assign those two on Barbara’s case instead of him, then shakes his head at the thought of dealing with their complaints about her.

“Hello, Barbara. I’m sure you know why I am in here,” he picks up her chart to see what medication she should be taking.

She shoots him a perturbed look, arms indignantly crossed over her chest. “I’m not doing it Dr. Ramsey. I’m sick and tired and being in this crap hole!” She hollers.

“It’s funny you say that Barb; because it seems to me that if you were to take your medication as advised, you wouldn’t be sitting in this bed so often. But, what do I know?” He gives a teasing grin.

She jabs a finger into his chest, inducing slight pain from her untrimmed nails, “Don’t you use that condescending tone with me! Forget about those damn pills!”

Ethan is usually able to retain a calm composure with difficult patients as to not risk causing their blood pressure to spike. Although, Barb makes it incessantly hard to do so. “I’m not going to ask you again, Barb,” he is done trying to negotiate. 

“Forget about it, Dr. Ramsey! I’m busting outta this joint! I’ll tie the bedsheets together and rappel out the window!” She threatens as if Ethan isn’t wishing it was a promise.

The imagery of her hanging off the side of the building amuses him enough to regain some patience. “Don’t wait up on my account. In fact, I might break out of here with you,” he jives.

“I mean it! I don’t have my favorite armchair, and I’m bored without my puzzles!”

She used to get under his skin when she would find any excuse in the book to plead her case. Now when she does it Ethan just lets it roll off his shoulders, there’s no point in trying to compromise with the derange. “And I’m bored of your excuses, Barb. Whine all you want, I’m not going anywhere until you take your medication,” he vows, before taking a trip to the vending machine. He hasn’t tried bribery yet. 

He eyes his options, unsure of what will appease a cranky old woman. His gaze keeps getting drawn to the chocolate bar in the top corner, he knows that would be his kryptonite. He adverts his attention; this isn’t about his cravings. As he stands there debating, he sees the Rookie stalk up behind him in reflection of the glass. She’s holding a book in her hands that looks a hell of a lot like the one he wrote, Diagnostic Principles. Her standing with him will automatically drop about ten points if she wants an autograph. 

“Um. Hi, Dr. Ramsey,” she sounds small, almost timid.

He eyes her briefly, and precedes to shove a dollar into the machine so she can see that he is in the midst of doing something, “… Rookie.”

“I was hoping you might sign my book,” he can see her fidgeting with the spine of it, revealing that their interaction is making her nervous.

He wasn’t aware of how much he was rooting for her until this utter disappointment was made. She seemed to have so much potential, but if she falls into the cycle of idolizing attending’s then she’ll never be able to unclasp herself from the restraints of paralyzing expectations. She’ll go on the dangerous path of always expecting to be like another, failing to realize that her greatness comes from authenticity. 

“Autographs? Don’t you have work to be doing? Or at least other attendings to irritate?” His tone is curt and uninterested.

It is almost as if he can feel the smile in her voice, “no, just you.”

“I should have guessed,” really, he should have, “Well, if you have something else to say, then say it.” Hopefully this won’t turn out to be a waste of time like he is expecting.

“I just wanted to tell you… I’m your biggest fan,” ah, so it is.

“My biggest fan? Is that right?” He pays half attention, concentrated on the seemingly impossible task at hand.

“I’ve read all of your papers: systemic amyloidosis, Lesch-Nyhan Syndrome, spinocerebellar ataxia…,” he maintains an indifferent face, but inside his curiosity has been awaken. “You inspired me to go to medical school.”

The last paper she mentioned was something he wrote back in undergrad, something that – so he thought – hasn’t seen the light of day in ages. The vast majority of people only know his most recent work that has been widely talked about. Annoyance creeps up on him for being mildly impress with this girl.

“The ataxia paper was my undergrad thesis. That medical journal isn’t even published anymore. You tracked that down?” Seriously, that must’ve taken some serious dedication.  
“Yup. I can give you my copy… if you’d like?” She offers.

Ethan almost laughs, as if he doesn’t have every paper he’s ever written saved in a drawer-full of flash drives. “That won’t be necessary.”

He glances back at the chocolate bar. Everyone likes chocolate, right? Maybe he could split it between the him and Barb, that way he isn’t promoting unhealthy eating habits within them both. At least, that sounds like a valid excuse for him to indulge in the delicious treat. 

“I was always a Geysers Exploding Fruit Snacks girl myself,” he thought she would’ve left by now.

“That’s truly fascinating, but I’m not-,”

“- I know you’re not getting something for yourself. You’re trying to pick something to cheer up Barbara in there, right?” She questions, inducing more shock than her confession about reading his undergrad thesis. 

“How’d you figure that?” His tone is flat but inside he is genuinely interested. 

“Just paying attention. You know, I bet I could pick out just thing,” her tone is too confident for her own good, for she doesn’t know Barb like he does.

He decides to play along anyhow, and it startles him how desperate he’s become when it comes to Barbara. “I doubt it, Barbara’s even more stubborn than you. She’s refused to take her pills for two days,” he enlightens her, eyeing her as she scans the options. “But be my guest. It’s a hopeless endeavor.”

He wonders what she’ll choose. Female’s normally have better intuition than males do, so maybe she’ll pick out something that he thinks is absurd but in reality is ingenious. Though, by the looks of the display he’s not sure what item could be so profound. The machine has the classics: cookies, chips, crackers, the works. Anything you can get at any given time at a nearby store.

She punches in a combination of numbers, and the machine spits out a small, colorful package that makes Ethan scrunch up his eyebrows. “What in the hell is that?”

“You never had Chuckles Gum? They write jokes in the wrapper,” she flashes him a lopsided grin while holding up the candy. He has to admit, he definitely would not have thought of that. “See? This one’s even a doctor joke. ‘What type of blood did the author have?’… Type-O!”

He doesn’t even blink, the jokes are worse than he thought they’d be. He can’t imagine these awful puns being able to work on Barb, if anything they might set her into another frenzy. The Rookie is looking at him expectantly, seemingly nervous at his lack of reaction.

“Like a typo?” She tries again.

“Oh, I got it. It’s just not funny.”

She places a hand on her heart, feigning hurt. “Tough crowd. Look, just give them to her, okay? Trust me.”

She’s ludicrous to think that anyone should trust someone they just met, but he’s ran out of options. He takes the, tragic excuse for jokes, gum and makes his way to Barbara’s room. Upon arrival, he has to stifle a laugh at the sight of her actually trying to knot her clothes into a rope-like fashion. Her pills lay untouched on her beside nightstand.

“Those knots will never hold,” he teasingly informs her.

She lets out a dramatic huff, refusing to face him. “Whatever. I’ll just pull the fire alarm and make my grand escape.”

“Go right ahead, I won’t stop you. Although, I must inform you that if you do you will never hear one of my best jokes,” he is playing a new angle in trying to pique her interest.

Her fingers halt in the production of untying her clothing. She glances back at him, “A joke? Give it your best shot, Ramsey.”

“What type of blood did the author have? …. Type-O!” 

Her face is still for an eerie moment, and then she’s breaking out into a fit of laughter. Ethan watches in absolute befuddlement, not sure how to quite react to this sudden change in behavior. She’s laughing so hard that tears are beginning to stream from her eyes, her hands clutched firmly at her sides. Ethan almost wants to leave the room.

“More, more!” She exclaims, shooting her arms out into the air.

Ethan assesses the situation with a neutral face. It dawns on him that this might be an ample time to negotiate a deal. “I must admit that that joke wasn’t mine. However, if you’d like to hear more of them I can give you my secret,” he shows her the package of gum in his palm, “but, only if you take your medication.”

Without missing a beat, she pops the pills into her mouth and swallows them down with a quick swig of water. Ethan stares at her dumbfoundedly, unsure of what to make of this change of events. How in the hell did the Rookie know that idiotic jokes would do the trick? He passes off the gum to Barbara, promptly going back to where the Rookie still stood at the vending machine.

“So, are you going to tell me how you worked that one out?” He inquires, sporting a perplex look.

She shrugs nonchalantly, knowing damn well that she’s in control of this conversation. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets.”

“You’re really going to hold out on me?” Usually he’d be annoyed by secrecy, but the banter is so easy that he’s just going with it.

“I’m going for an air of mystery. Is it working?” She smiles mischievously. 

Ethan did not expect this from her. Is she the same girl that was asking for an autograph a mere few minutes ago? “Mildly,” he admits, finding himself smiling back.

Her eyes dart over to the vending machine and before Ethan even has the chance to process what she’s doing a chocolate bar is falling down the machine. “And who is that for?” He questions, realizing it’s his money that she just used. 

“You,” she underhand throws the chocolate bar at him which he catches smoothly. “Saw you kept staring at it earlier. You know, it’s okay to treat yourself sometimes.”

Ethan can’t recall the last time he has done something for himself. He spends most of his week at the hospital, doing rounds or hiding out in his office. He’s only home momentarily to take care of his dog, Jenner, or to eat a proper meal. He does occasionally go to the local opera house, but the last time was a few months ago when things were less hectic. He forgot the chocolate is even considered a pleasure.

“… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Remini turns to walk away. Ethan knows what he is about to do will probably bite him in the ass later, but she really helped him out today. “Wait. Give it here,” he says, motioning towards the book.

He flips the cover open to reveal a different name neatly printed in the corner: Landry Olsen. Ah, he should’ve known that she’s wasn’t so predictable as to be another super-fan. He sprawls a quick message ‘for my biggest fan’ and signs his name before handing it back to her. He conceals the relief he feels about her doing this for someone else.  
“Now get back to work, Remini,” he teasingly orders.

She shoots him a stupefied look, “you remembered my name?”

“… Just paying attention,” he saunters away, unsure of why he did. 

***

Natalia is staring at him, her face screwed up with the same perplexity he had when Barbara took her medication. “I can’t believe you won the bet,” she keeps repeating.

“Will I did, and I believe that you owe me my prize money,” he grins wolfishly, holding out his palm. 

She scornfully slaps the money into his hand, visibly pained when he puts it in his pocket. The other two nurses who were in on the bet are also enviously glaring at him, he flashes them a bright smile in return. A part of him doesn’t feel right taking this money, for the Rookie was the one who had the brilliant idea. He can’t tell the nurses, though, they’ll want a rematch.

As he goes to leave Natalia catches him by the arm. “Hey! I was just wondering since you’re rich and all now,” she gives him a playful nudge, “If you would, by chance, like to get drinks with me tonight?”

He considers this proposition. She’s an attractive woman, long chestnut hair and soft brown eyes. She’s never gotten on his nerves, which is rare, and he actually quite enjoys her company. If he hadn’t decided on never dating a colleague again he probably would have said yes. He sighs internally, really regretting that decision now.

“I’m going to have to take rain check,” he gives her his best reassuring smile, maybe he’ll change his mind later. 

Probably not. 

***

Once he’s back in his office he opens his drawer to fetch his wallet and secure the loose money in his pocket. As he’s reaching into one of them he feels something squishy and hot. He yanks out the source and feels disheartened at his finding. It is the chocolate bar the Rookie gave him earlier, but now melted and unappealing. 

He throws it in the trash and gets back to work.


	2. Don't Fail Me Now

Ethan perks his head up when a knock resonates from his door. Before he can answer, Naveen Banerji is stepping in, a brilliant smile plastered on his face. “Hello, my friend,” he chirps, taking a seat across from Ethan.

Ethan is in the thick of paperwork, and if it was any other person interrupting him, he would promptly see them to the door. But this is Naveen – the only person he can truly say has his full respect. He is also aware that Naveen tends to check up on him during intern day, to make sure that he hasn’t gone crazy. Naveen always seems to have an inexhaustible patience with everyone and everything. 

“I assume you’re not here to talk about the weather,” Ethan sets his glasses down. “I haven’t met all of the interns yet. Although, I must say Dr. Remini seems to have considerable potential.”

He’s been friends with Naveen for long enough to know when to just skip to the awaited topic. “Of course, she does! You’ve always had a knack for picking out the extraordinary ones,” Naveen is eyeing Ethan with a knowingness that he can’t quite figure out.

Then it dawns on him.

Harper enlisted him for help in choosing which applicants to place at Edenbrook last year. At the time he had mixed feelings on it; for one, he was relieved that he would have a hand in Edenbrook’s future, but he was also worried that none of the applications would impress him enough to be deserving of their spot. That is, until he laid eyes on Leah Remini’s folder. There was something about it that caught his attention, and to this day he still isn’t exactly sure why. Her resume was exceptionally impressive, her research topics unique and enthralling. But, so were many others.

Regardless, when it came down between her and a girl from Stanford, she was chosen. 

The girl that is continuingly surprising him today just so happens to be his chosen applicant.

Ha. Go figure.

***

He is on his way to the coffee shop for his break when the sound of a defibrillator going off halts him. He had received a code blue page about ten minutes ago, and from prior knowledge knows it doesn’t take them this long to get the process moving. He cranes his neck to glance into the room, eyes going wide at the sight of the Rookie performing chest compressions on an unconscious patient.

“What the hell is going on in here, Rookie?” He storms in, scanning the scene in front of him.

The Rookie head snaps up in alarm, her eyes finding him in the doorway. “Dr. Ramsey! She was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed,” she confesses.

“Well… at least you’re taking responsibility,” his anger falters. “Sometimes patients don’t know about their own allergies. That’s why you always have to be cautious.”

A brunette intern is silently working away in the corner. She retrieves an epinephrine pen and injects it into the patient’s thigh, sighing in relief when the patient takes a shuddering gasp for air. “And now we intubate,” the cool-headed intern informs, performing the procedure swiftly.

“Excellent work, Doctor…?” Ethan is undoubtedly going to have to keep tabs on her if she normally deals with chaos this well. 

“Varma,” she grins, blatantly pleased that he’s taken an interest in her.

“You were assigned to this case?” He asks, hoping she was so that he won’t have to hunt down who should’ve been also on the case.

She shoots the Rookie an anxious look before replying, “No. I was passing and heard Dr. Remini calling a code blue.”

He suppresses his bout of anger with an easy grin, hoping that the Rookie is paying attention to what he’s about to say. “The patient’s very lucky you were here. I’m not confident Dr. Remini could have handled this alone.” 

Earlier today he was confident that Dr. Remini was an astounding intern, probably the best in her year. Now, he feels as though she has failed him and herself. Naveen seemed so sure that Ethan’s judgement was sound, and now his chosen intern almost killed a patient. How is he supposed to tell Naveen that? He can feel his anger boiling again.

Dr. Varma bites her lip and exchanges a look with the Rookie, her eyes heavy with decision. “Thank you. Just doing my job, Dr. Ramsey,” she says modestly. 

“Dr. Varma really bailed me out. Thank you, Dr. Varma,” Rookie says, stunning Ethan that she would just give away all the credit.

Dr. Varma shares the same expression as him. “… Anytime.”

His eyes are trained on the Rookie’s face, not letting her slip away into the solitude of her own mind. “Dr. Varma, you should return to your own patients,” he calmly states, not wanting her to be delayed any further.

“Yes, Doctor,” she smiles politely, visibly glad to be leaving the tense situation.

The Rookie locks eyes with Dr. Varma momentarily, as if they’re exchanging unspoken words. She glances back at Ethan, her eyes falling to the floor with a look of discomfort. For a brief second, he feels a twinge of pity for her, but this is quickly overtaken by his resuming anger.

“And you… you need to have a long, hard think about whether or not you’re ready to be here,” he takes a deep breath to steady his raging nerves, “It doesn’t matter that it’s your first day, or that you’re still learning. Whether this girl lives or dies is on you.”

“… I know, Dr. Ramsey.”

“You still have no idea what’s wrong with her, and your first effort nearly killed her. This is the real world. No room for mista--,”

“Hi! Dr. Ramsey? Sorry to interrupt,” says a mousey intern, popping her head into the room.

Ethan throws up his hands in exasperation. “For the love of god, what now?”

“One of the nurses told me… that one of the other interns told them… that one of the doctors said…,” nothing irritates Ethan more than a rambler. 

“Skip to the point.”

“Dr. Toussaint needs to see you urgently!” She finally blurts out.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in utter frustration. “Damn interns always running around with their heads chopped off,” he mumbles under his breath, then audibly says, “remember what I said, Rookie. Next time I see you, you’d better have solved this case.”

The mousey intern jumps aside as he brushes by. He shakes his head at the absurd reaction and stalks off to Dr. Toussaint’s office to see what he wants.

***

Dr. Toussaint had no idea what Ethan was talking about.

Of course, he didn’t.

Ethan marinated over the day’s events while nursing a cup of coffee at the hole-in-the-wall coffee shop he routinely visited. The Rookie had initially impressed him, demonstrating her abundance of skill without a sweat… then she almost killed someone. Confliction courses through him on whether not his reaction to her earlier was appropriate. He feels as though it is reasonable for him to be upset, but at the same time recognizes that she owned up to her mistakes and fixed the problem at hand with resilience. Then, there is Dr. Varma who is certainly impressive…

He takes a large gulp of his black coffee.

These interns are going to gray him quicker than kids will.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out Annie’s case file, flipping it open and skimming over the pages. He reads over the Rookie’s neatly written notes and glances back at the symptoms the patient is displaying. The correlation between Annie not getting her scuba license and being prone to panic attacks almost makes him laugh aloud at how easy the diagnosis is. To an expert, it is clear that Annie is suffering from labyrinthitis and decompression sickness. To a newbie, it will take much longer to connect the dots, but it isn’t impossible. He quickly decides that he’ll give the Rookie until five o’clock to figure it out herself before he interferes. 

***

He receives a page a quarter after four and promptly sees himself to Annie’s room. Her and the Rookie are in the midst of a friendly chat, Annie looking much less dead then she did hours before. His presence goes unnoticed, so he decides to clear his throat to announce himself. “I’m told you wanted to see me?

For a moment he can see fear engulf the Rookie’s eyes, but it quickly dissolves into a bout of pride. Ethan almost feels a little disheartened at her initial reaction, though he is quickly reminded that he doesn’t need an intern to like him, just to respect his authority. The prideful excitement is slowly expanding onto her lips, and he can only guess what this means…

“Annie’s is gonna be okay,” she declares, grinning down at the alert patient.

“That’s good news. I imagine this wasn’t a random miracle…,” he folds his arms over his chest and relaxes his back against the door frame, surveying her coolly, “so? I’m waiting to hear whatever brilliant insight you arrived at.”

Annie looks enthusiastically between the two doctors, blatantly relieved to no longer be a mystery, “I wanna know, too!”

The Rookie takes a moment to refresh herself on Annie’s chart, as though she might say it wrong if she doesn’t have a brief touch up. Her gaze falls onto Annie, her eyes turning soft and kindhearted. “It was never the bacteria. But it was something that happened on her trip to Indonesia. Annie, you told me you ‘went for’ your scuba license. You didn’t say you got it,” her tone registers as a question but Ethan can hear the settle notes of confidence laced within. 

Annie’s eyes flicker down to the blanket pooling around her lap, her hands fidgeting with the hem in a nervous gesture. “…. Because I didn’t get it,” she hesitantly admits.

The Rookie picks up on Annie’s nonverbal cues of discomfort and reaches for her hand, grasping it gingerly between her own. “You also told me that you’re prone to panic attacks when you get stressed out. Annie, did you have a panic attack while you were diving?”

“I always wanted to go scuba diving… but once I got down there, I just totally freaked out.”

“And you resurfaced too quickly,” the Rookie hands off the chart to Ethan, “the result? Decompression sickness… and labyrinthitis. Annie, that’s an inflammation of your inner ear, which caused your vertigo and nausea.”

“Oh!” Annie gasps, a noticeable flood of relief washing over her that it isn’t anything too serious.

Ethan cocks his head at the Rookie, having still one question needing to be answered, “and what treatment do you recommend, Dr. Remini?”

“The symptoms can be eased with antihistamines… but the condition itself can only be treated with time,” Ethan catches Annie’s face faltering.

“How much time?” She asks, not bothering to conceal her disappointment. 

The Rookie reassures her with a friendly smile. “You can’t rush it, but within a few weeks, you’ll feel like yourself again.”

Ethan takes a quick mental note of the Rookie’s excellence in patient care. She is able to empathize truly, and able to asset a patient’s discomfort instantaneously and take the appropriate action of soothing it. Her keen insight and effortless ability to not dismiss a patient’s emotional needs is rather remarkable. Maybe his harsh reaction earlier was unjustified, and very rarely is he wrong.

He leaves the room with the Rookie hot on his heels. “So, I’ll fill out a prescription for some extra-strength antihistamines--,” she begins.

“Don’t bother. I already have,” Ethan interjects. 

He hands over the prescription form that he had ordered about thirty minutes ago. The rookie scans the inscription with a bewildered gaze, the dots lining up in her head. She steals a glance at Ethan, her eyes a flurry of emotions: shock, anger, and, possibly, gratefulness. The latter unsettles him.

“You knew? When were you gonna tell me?” Her tone suggests she’s baffled. 

Ethan nonchalantly checks his watch, as if he can’t remember the exact time of his epiphany. “I’d planned to give you another forty-five minutes. I pulled up Annie’s chart to diagnose it myself, in the likely event you blew it,” the comment gains a glare from the Rookie, “but I wanted to give you the chance to right the ship, first.”

She considers his words for a lengthy moment, lips parting in a way of undecided thoughts. Then, what he least expects, comes softly out of her mouth, “Thanks for giving me the chance.”  
“Hm. I would’ve expected you to be angry,” he admits, still unsure if this is a trick or not.

She flashes him a faint smile. “No, I appreciate your help. I’m never gonna learn if someone’s always holding my hand.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he gives her an assessing look. Generally, interns are quick to profusely apologize for their wrongdoings, but in a way that tries to dismiss themselves from taking actual accountability. Or, they would’ve gotten indignant about him not automatically offering his assistance. The Rookie accepted her wrongs gracefully, which is something worthy of praise. 

“My thoughts exactly,” his lips twitch up ever so slightly, “but you showed potential. Not to mention maybe the most important trait a doctor can have.”

“What’s that?” Her demeanor is relaxed now that Ethan’s anger has subside. 

“You listened. You took the time to get to know your patient. Their story, their hopes, their fears…,” he pauses for a second, giving the Rookie time to soak in his words, “Sometimes, those are the key to saving their life.”

Her cheeks have gone lightly pink at the compliment. Ethan almost marvels at the sight until a flustered-looking intern approaches them brashly. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos Harper had showed him. Aurora keenly observes the triumphant looks taking reign over Ethan and the Rookie’s face, then turns her attention to a bubbly Annie through the window. Ethan can pinpoint the moment her face goes from perplexity to outrage. 

“What the hell? You went and presented without me?” She scoffs.

Ah, just as dignified as her aunt, Ethan thinks coldly to himself. “Annie was your patient as well, Dr. Emery. What the hell have you been doing while Dr. Remini was making a diagnosis?” 

A wave of confliction passes through the Rookie’s features. She looks hesitantly at Aurora, as if weighing tumultuous options in her mind. A part of Ethan silently hopes that she doesn’t take the fall for this, for he heard Harper paging Aurora to her office hours ago. The other part of him hopes she does so she’ll be strong enough to demand help from her coworkers next time.

“Sorry, Dr. Emery. I should have kept you updated on the developments,” she decides. 

Aurora glares at her coldly, but beneath her stony exterior Ethan can see that she recognizes the out that the Rookie has given her. “… It’s okay. I wasn’t here. This was your win.”

Dr. Ramsey isn’t one to play favorites, so he turns his attention back to the Rookie. “Dr. Remini, hospitals run on communication. Keep each other appraised,” he orders.

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey,” she complies.

Ethan casts a glare at Aurora, “And Dr. Emery? Patient assignments are not optional.”

He struts off, anger and confliction coursing through the veins in his legs that are maneuvering his body through the hall and to Harper’s office. Ever since Harper took the position of Chief him and her have yet to see eye to eye. He warned her about the curse bestowed upon those in higher power, but she arrogantly brushed him aside. Now, she’s sucked her niece into behaving like an incompetent buffoon, something that he can’t just turn a blind eye to.

He doesn’t bother knocking as he enters the room, and Harper looks momentarily startled before regaining her neutral composure. “Ah, yes. Come in why don’t you?” She sighs, shuffling through her paperwork.

He stops short of her desk, not bothering to sit down for his isn’t in the mood for a lengthy chat. “Aurora needs to be doing her job, Harper, not lollygagging in your office all day.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but she was helping me with a new research study,” she eyes Ethan with a cocked eyebrow. “Why don’t you sit down? I can tell you about it.”

Ethan almost feels tempted, for him and her used to spend hours discussing medical journals and new studies together over coffee. Though, those were the old days where they were equals and could enjoy each other’s company. The girl in front of him has changed, and no excuse in the book will justify her keeping an intern away from her duties. 

“I can’t say that I’m intrigued,” he deadpans, then adds, “Aurora’s patient almost died today because she left Dr. Remini to serve as two people. Next time this happens I’ll see to Aurora not being assigned a case; instead, she’ll be charting for a week.”

He makes it halfway to the door when Harper’s voice rings out in what he can only describe as sobriety, “I’ll try not to keep her next time… and Ethan? I miss how we would civilly resolve things.”

He hesitates, but only for a mere second, “me too.”

And then he’s out the door. 

***

Usually he wouldn’t be caught dead at Donahue’s on Intern Day, considering that it’s the closest bar to the hospital and it’s always overflowing with interns drinking their-first-day blues away. But, he’s in desperate need of his special, and only Reggie makes it to perfection. He changes out his formal wear and into something much more comfortable before making the short walk there. 

He secures a seat at the corner of the bar, waving Reggie over with a single finger. “What’s it going to be tonight?” Reggie asks, a dishtowel hung sloppily over his shoulder.

“Just the usual, Reg.”

Reggie flashes him a quick smile before ducking under the bar and retrieving mid-shelf rum and a bottle of honey. He mixes the two together to create a perfect blend of bitter and sweet, enough to warm Ethan’s stomach. Ethan raises his cup to him and takes the first sip, relishing in the familiar flavor. Reggie moves to help another customer, leaving Ethan to his thoughts…

… Which gets rudely interrupted by the first round of interns.

It’s a group of scalpel jockeys headed towards the darts table. Ethan peels his eyes away, uninterested in a bunch of meatheads. He takes another sip of his drink, watching as more and more people spill into the bar. He’s about to glance away until the swish of a blond ponytail catches his attention. The rookie and her friends make their way to an available table, laughing along the way. Dr. Varma, the mousey intern, and the awestruck intern are in tow, and so is another intern he isn’t familiar with.

He signals Reggie for another drink, unable to decipher if he can make it through the night without one. As soon as it’s placed in front of him one of the scalpel jockey’s saddles up next to him, waving down Reggie. “Six shots of tequila please,” he grins a dazzling smile.

Ethan gives the guy a once over in his peripheral vision, and is rather unimpressed by his cocky demeanor. The guy looks over, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of him, “Dr. Ramsey! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He extends his hand.

Ethan grasps it firmly, giving him a subtle nod, “and your name is?”

“Bryce Lahela, first year surgical intern,” he beams, “even though I didn’t chose internal medicine I really admire your work. Can I buy you a drink?”

Ethan gives a pointed look of the tray of shots being passed over to Lahela, shots his bank account is probably screaming at. “I’m quite alright, but thank you,” he raises his cup, “don’t let me keep you from your friends.”

With that Lahela is hurrying away, but to the table Ethan didn’t expect. Lahela gives a shot to everyone in the Rookie’s group, and they all laugh at something he said. Ethan forces himself to look away, bringing his cup up to his lips. He’s never been one to have a multitude of friends, and for the most part it doesn’t irk him. Although, on nights like these, it seems rather hard to forget that he is alone. 

The Rookie moves towards the bar minutes later with her friend, and Ethan can’t help but to notice her attire. She’s wearing a low-cut top and shorts that stop just above midthigh, an outfit that accentuates her features just right. Before he can advert his eyes she meets them with hers, then mumbles something to her friends. She approaches him cautiously as if he might bite.

"Something wrong, Dr. Ramsey?” She asks, certainly flustered by his gaze on her.

“Just noticing how… different you look out in the real world,” he says, even though he’s replacing ‘admiring’ with ‘noticing’. 

Reggie approaches the pair, glancing interestedly at the Rookie. Ethan rarely has company, especially not an attractive female. “What’ll be?” Reggie asks.

The Rookie not-so-subtly stares down at Ethan’s cup, trying to guess its contents. “We’ll have two scotches, neat,” she determines. 

Reggie slides the drinks in front of her and she passes one off to Ethan. He raises it to his nose, inhaling the hearty aroma with a smile. “Why neat instead of on the rocks?” He quizzes.

“The ice changes the flavors,” she answers without missing a beat. 

“Right answer.”

They grin at each other. 

“You know I can’t be bribed into favoring you, right?” Ethan adds.

Her face gleams with mischief as she leans against her elbows, teetering slight towards him. “I think you already favor me,” she sighs, eyeing him playfully.

“You keep believing that,” he gives her a gentle nudge.

He downs the rest of the scotch in a long gulp and signals for Reggie who makes his way over swiftly. “Two specials. Thanks, Reggie.”

Reggie grins, shooting a finger gun at him, “Only for you, Ethan.” 

The Rookie watches the interaction go down; an eyebrow quirked up at the duo. “You’re on first-name terms with the bartender?” She sounds slightly surprised. 

Ethan had met Reggie when he was a second-year resident. The bar had just opened up and was trying to get customers to try out the selection. Ethan stumbled upon it after a bad shift, one that left his heart throbbing and hands shaky. Reggie bought the first round and talked with him until he could feel the tension ease from his shoulders. Ever since he would go there after a hard case, making sure not to leave until he knew he wouldn’t cry alone in his car. 

“He’s an old friend. I come here most nights,” he admits somberly. 

She looks down at her drink, her voice soft when it spills out, “You don’t have anyone waiting at home?”

Ethan nearly flinches. He thinks back on his empty apartment, his dog Jenner his only companion. Even when he dated Harper he’d usually end up alone most nights. He’s thought about what it would be like to have a family to come home to, someone to cook for, to care for. He shrugs it off, believing it’ll never be in the cards for him.

“I’ll come here even when I do. I need some buffer between the hospital and the world. An airlock,” he catches her eye, “don’t take the job home with you, Leah.”

“I’ll keep that in mind… but you still didn’t answer the question,” she presses.

“No. Nobody waiting at home tonight.”

Fortunately, Reggie slides two drinks in front of them, breaking up the heavy conversation. Sighing a breath of relief Ethan hands off one to her, “Here, try this.”

She cautiously takes a sip, being careful to keep her features neutral. Ethan’s eyes intently watch her face, trying to catch the slightest bit of a reaction. She’s good, too good, and he makes a mental note that she’ll probably be hated during Poker. 

“Well, how’s it compare?” He asks impatiently. 

She gives a careless shrug, “I’ve had better.”

“No, you haven’t,” he grins, knowing damn well he’s calling her bluff.

She breaks out into an infectious smile, “Okay, you got me. It’s amazing. What is it?”

“That’s a secret between me and Reggie. I’ll never tell,” her grins wolfishly, holding up his glass, “to your intern year. In the hopes that you don’t completely blow everything you’ve worked your whole life for.”

“Morbid. I like it,” she laughs, clinking her glass against his.

They talk for a little while longer, conversing with her is easy and enigmatic. She makes him laugh effortlessly, something he deems hard to achieve. She’s witty, always ready counteract his tease. He wished she’d stay a little longer, but alas Dr. Varma pulled the winning straw. She bid her goodbyes and went off dancing towards the end of the bar. Ethan left the money of the counter and started making his way home.

The day’s events are buzzing in his head as he walks the quiet streets. He isn’t sure what’s to come, but at least he likes what has started.


	3. Abdandonment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rookie survives her first day doing rounds, which Ethan is grateful for. But, with the shocking news of Naveen's retirement, he isn't sure what the future has to hold.

Ethan should’ve figured he wasn’t getting off with not being more involved with the interns that easily.

He is in the midst of reading an enthralling new case study from Harvard University when Dr. Ines pops her head through his office door. She has that enigmatic smile plastered onto her face, the type of smile that feels like your stepping on a puppy if you say no to it. She lowers herself into the chair directly across from him, observing his quaint space like she hasn’t seen it before.

“Is that a new bookshelf?” She queries, examining the fine mahogany wood.

Ethan knows this trick too well, for it’s the one she knows will always work. He folds his arms over his chest, looking at her pointedly. “I may have splurged a little over Christmas…,” by a little, he means a lot on an unreasonably priced bookshelf, “I feel as though you have a favor to ask me?”

She smiles sheepishly, “Okay, okay, you got me. I do need your help with something.”

“It would truly be an honor, but I already have a full caseload today…,”

“Perfect! You can pass off some of yours to the interns when you help us with rounds!” She clasps her hands excitedly together.

Ethan stares at her dubiously. Does she really expect him to be okay with letting children take care of his patients? He opens his mouth to reject the notion, but before he can her eyes are shifting into her infamous puppy-like plead.  
She plays the game far too well, and it frightens him how adequately she knows what will work on him. If he doesn’t agree to it, she’ll lay on the disappointment so thick that his guilt will eat away at him all day.

He lets out a long sigh, checking his watch in the process, “What do you need?”

****

Ethan relaxes his figure against the elevator wall, wishing it would move faster so he can get this over with. When the doors slide open he is given sight to the large expanse of interns crowding around Dr. Ines, who looks as thrilled as ever, and Dr. Mirani, who looks just as annoyed as Ethan feels. Dr. Ines notices Ethan quickly and shoots him an enthusiastic grin. 

“Today, we have a very special guest… Good morning, Dr. Ramsey!” She announces, causing the wide-eyed interns to turn their heads in his direction.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall well?” He mutters, closing the gap between him and the other doctors.

The curly-haired intern’s face turns a twinge of green as he stares upon Ethan. He mumbles something to his friend, and the only words Ethan can pick up is ‘puke’. Well, at least he’ll have some fun making them sweat today. “Let’s see who the interns are going to kill today,” he retorts, gaining a glare from the Rookie.

She’s shaking her head, leaning into the mousey intern to whisper something undecipherable. “Something to say, Dr. Remini?” Ethan questions, quirking an eyebrow up at her.

A cacophony of whispers rises from the group, for Ethan isn’t one to remember names. He wonders if that’ll later cause him more trouble than it’s worth. “Yes, actually.” The Rookie squares her shoulders, giving him an intrepid look. “It’s our second day. You don’t have to make mean jokes to try to shake our confidence.”

Dr. Ines isn’t good with confrontation, not in the slightest, and Ethan can feel her eyes uneasily shifting between him and the Rookie. “Ha! Ha ha! Let’s maybe proceed with-,” she starts to interject but Ethan’s gaze is steady on the blonde intern in front of him.

“And has your confidence been shaken?” He challenges, hoping she’ll take the bait.

She raises her chin in a dignified manner, “Of course it hasn’t.”

“Good. Because if I scare you, then you aren’t remotely prepared for what you’ll face on a daily basis here.” Her stoic posture only falters a tad bit, “Actually, why don’t we start rounds with your patient?”

Dr. Ines and Ethan make their way down the hall in an awkward silence; the interns in tow. When they reach the door, Ethan takes in a sharp breath, opening it after a single knock. The man in the bed sits up straight, looking peculiarly at the mob of young faces. Ethan almost laughs, for he too would not take the sight of baby faced know-it-alls well, either. 

“Uh, are my eyes going, or are they multiplying? Mike asks, probably hoping for the former.

“Good morning, Mr. Knoblauch. They multiple. It’s horrible,” Ethan concedes. 

The young boy on the floor slams his toys together, yelling out moves that they are performing. He’s seemingly unbothered by the mob of strangers suddenly around him, his toys clutched tightly in his hands. “Take that, Commander Entropy!” He barks enthusiastically.

“Sorry about Matthew. His school’s out for the summer. I usually bring him with me to work,” Mike says wearily, dark circles smudging under his eyes. 

The Rookie responds with a kind smile, “No problem, Mike. Everyone, this is Mike Knoblauch, forty-three. He is my patient with Dr. Olsen.”

She motions towards Curly, who locks eyes with Ethan for a moment before hesitantly stepping up. Ethan assess him coolly, taking in the view of the anxious-looking intern. He smooths the slightly crumpled chart paper with the corner of his thumb, looking over the notes without quite picking up on the words. Ethan knows that Curly can feel all of the eyes on him, for his cheeks a twinging with pink.

“Go on then. Present,” he pushes, uninterested in standing in Mike’s room all day.

“This is Mike Knoblauch, forty-three… Sorry, Dr. Remini already said that. He, um… suffered..,” he stutters unceremoniously. 

Ethan can feel his patience ticking away. “He’ll be forty-four by the time you’re done,” he chaffs, gaining a soft round of laughter from the other interns.

Curly hangs his head in a bout of embarrassment, his cheeks visibly reddening. He lifts his eyes just enough to meet the Rookie’s from across the bed. She’s mouthing something to him, and whatever it is, it’s enough for him to straighten his back and reexamine the chart. The other interns are shifting uncomfortably, some giggling to ease the awkwardness. 

“As I was saying, Dr. Ramsey… he was in a single-car accident,” Curly reads off, only sounding a fraction more confident.

“I don’t remember anything about it,” Mike informs, the ghost of confusion lingering on his face.

Curly glances at him momentarily, obviously not keen on him interrupting his thought process. “After stitching his lacerations, we found internal bleeding via ultrasound,” he continues.

“How will you treat it?” Ethan pointedly asks him, for this is something that can only be discussed and not be read off a chart.

Curly gives him a dubious look, as if this is a trick question. “Um… Rest and symptom control?” He answers skeptically. 

Ethan nods at him, slightly relieved to not have to embarrass him more in front of his colleagues. Curly’s gaze lands back on Leah, and whatever he mouths to her makes her smile in return. So far only Dr. Varma and the Rookie have proven to be capable of the lot, and if that is so Ethan is in for one hell of a year. 

“You don’t think you should be taking the internal bleeding more seriously?” Aurora interjects, her stoic posture hidden in the back row. 

Ethan glares at her in the corner of his eye. Does she really believe that she is more adept than others in such a way that she’d be right over two colleagues at her level and the attendings agreeing with them? His expectations of Aurora are taking a severe plunge, especially over the gleaming review Harper made of her. The Rookie’s features contort into a flit of rage for a mere second before she resumes her professional composure.

“We considered surgery, but the bleeding isn’t severe enough for such an invasive procedure. If anything changes, we’ll assess,” she coolly states, not giving into the temptation to react poorly to her counterpart.

“How long will I have to stay in this godawful place?” Mike moans audibly. 

Curly gazes at him steadily before replying, “A week. Maybe more.”

“A week? You said it wasn’t severe! I can’t take a week off work! I have a kid! I have a mortgage!” Mike roars, his eyebrow shooting off his forehead in disbelief. “Christ knows how much this stay is already costing me!”

Rookie gives him an empathic look. “I’m sorry, Mike, but…,”

“You aren’t sorry! You’re keeping me here to turn a profit! I’ve read about hospitals like this!” He abhorrently cuts her off.

Ethan intently stays quiet during this face off, for he knows that if he opens his mouth Mike will not enjoy what he’ll hear. The Rookie also stays silent, but to adequately adjust her response in which she sees fit. If she ends up staying calm and collected in the tribulation of a difficult patient, then Ethan is going to give her more credit than she’s already due.

“It’s frustrating, I know. But it’s not for nothing.” A soft smile leaks out onto her face. “Your bleeding doesn’t require surgery, but one false move and things could turn south. Gotta get you healthy, Mike. There’s people counting on you.”

With that, both her and Mike advert their gaze to the young boy still playing absentmindedly on the linoleum floor. Mike lets out a reluctant sigh, “Fine. Do what you gotta do.”

“Let’s move on. Dr. Greene, your patient next…,” Dr. Ines diverts.

The hour ticks by slowing with each intern addressing their patient. They all drone through the chart, not really taking the time to assess the patient outside of their medical problems. The Rookie is the only who has shown true connection, true care. She’s an example to be made of, if the other’s aren’t to consumed in their own thoughts. By the end of it the only one left looking cheerful is Dr. Ines, which is too be expected.

“Congratulations! You’ve survived your first morning rounds! That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She gleefully claps her hands together, causing Ethan to flinch at an incoming headache.

“Please note that every single one of your patients was alive when I last saw them,” he scowls at the sea of young faces. “If they’re not in the same state tomorrow, do not bother showing your face here again.”

The crowd disperses to start the preparation of the day, but before the Rookie can follow Ethan beckons her over. “Not you, Rookie. You’ve got one more to present,” he informs.

“I do?” She asks, clearly befuddled. 

Ethan navigates the hallway with the Rookie in tow, leading her to her a room where a woman with a bright smile lays – a sling securing her arm. Dr. Ines is right about one thing, that being he can pass off assignments that he’d rather not deal with to the interns. This isn’t it a hard case, just a patient who perpetually flirts her way around the hospital. Ethan isn’t in the right mood today to be dealing with that.

“Please tell me you’re my new doctor,” Kyra smiles coyly at the approaching Rookie.

The Rookie’s eyebrows rise up a smidge as she glances back at Ethan. “Wait, I am?”

“Her usual doctor decided to go golfing instead of doing his job, so I’ve booted him off. She’s yours now, Dr. Remini. Go on, present her case,” he urges, feeling the itch for his daily coffee break.

Kyra grins wolfishly, “Ooh, yes. Show me off.”

Rookie tentatively picks up the unfamiliar chart, her eyes grazing the words on the detailed page. Ethan wonders if she’ll notice her white blood cell count, indicating that she is also suffering from cancer. The patient isn’t showing any outward signs of illness, but a trained eye will be able to capture the markers with a quick skim of the page. 

“Okay, let’s see… Patient is Kyra Santana, twenty-eight years old. She has a fractured radius in need of casting,” the Rookie reads off certainly, looking up at Ethan to say that’s she done.

“That’s it?” He pushes.

She glances back down at the chart, eyebrows scrunching together in perplexation. “…Yes? This feels like a trick question,” she states, transparently feeling less confident now.

“Kyra, tell Dr. Remini what’s actually wrong with you.”

“I’m afraid it’s cancer, doc,” she gives a half-hearted smile.

The Rookie’s eyes widen at the news, “What? But your chart says--,”

“Check the cell count on the last page. Indicative of…?” Ethan interrupts.

She flips through the chart, her eyes skimming through the words. The realization is clear on her face. “Large-cell neuroendocrine carcinoma!” Her tone is baffled.

“In my left lung, yeah,” Kyra shrugs.

This is a good learning lesson for the Rookie. She has to be able to diagnosis the whole situation, not just fragments of it. It is also good that she remembers the different types of cancers from med school and is able to identify them with basic labs on the chart. Ethan has a feeling that she’ll prove herself to be capable of doing such without assistance one day.

“The real problem isn’t always obvious. If it was, they’d let any idiot become a doctor. Though maybe they do anyway,” he sighs internally, thinking about the babbling interns from earlier.

The Rookie is still shaking her head. “I don’t understand. If you’re in for cancer treatment, how’d you break your arm?”

“I was on my way here for another C.T. I was going to take the subway, but I saw this bike abandoned on the side of the street,” a mischievous gleam sparkles in Kyra’s eye. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a bike, but never had one as a kid. So, when I saw one just lying there, it seemed like a sign! Totally wiped out on the first corner. I broke my arm on a trash can, because apparently I’m garbage at riding a bike.”

The Rookie considers her words, a small smile toying on her lips. She quickly conceals it, letting her concerned doctor persona take way. “Kyra, what you did was dangerous! With your cancer already so advanced, anything could compromise your healthy.”

Ethan nods subtly in approval, appreciating that she didn’t praise the patient for being reckless. Kyra, on the other hand, nonchalantly replies, “With all due respect, very attractive doctor, my health is already pretty compromised.”

“Dr. Remini, what is our treatment plan for Kyra?” He asks, knowing she’ll want to proceed differently now with the newfound knowledge.

She shakes her head a little dumbfoundedly, “I was going to say we need to cast her arm, but now--,”

“Good. Do that,” he interjects, already stalking off before she can argue. Kyra will let her know about her oncology team; he assumes.

“But, what about her--,” he pretends like he doesn’t hear her.

***

Naveen sits across from Ethan at the coffee shop, nursing a cup of an overly-sweetened roast. His eyes light up as Ethan accounts the days events, filling him in on who he thinks will make an excellent doctor and who’s a blundering idiot. They did this every year – Ethan treating Naveen to lunch and the two of them discussing the fresh blood. However, today Naveen’s appetite is oddly not in attendance. He told Ethan that he had a late breakfast.

“So, has Dr. Remini continue her impressive streak?” Naveen prods, gingerly taking a sip of his drink.

Ethan thinks back on his time spent with her today, all the annoyances and triumphs. “Well, she tried to stick up for the interns which I suppose is admirable, but overall futile. She negotiated teamwork with her curly-haired friend who froze like a deer in head lights--,”

“Dr. Olsen?” Naveen corrects him. Of course, he has already mesmerized their names.

“Yes, Dr. Olsen. I also assigned her to a cancer patient who came in with fracture, and with a little guidance she was able to determine what form she had off of the chart readings,” he concludes. 

Naveen strokes his chin thoughtfully as he takes in the detailed summarization of each of the aspiring doctors. He is always able to see the best attributes of someone, even if at first they seem like a hopeless case. Ethan never understood how he could do so, it seemed like an incredible leap of faith to put hope into someone who might never achieve something great; and, he is not one to play by chances. 

“Do you think any of them might be suitable to be apart of the diagnostics team one day?” Naveen queries, his eyes steady on Ethan.

Ethan’s eyebrows shoot up in bewilderment at the sudden thought. It is far too soon to making such a judgement call, especially being that none have been given the time to make grave mistakes. Naveen’s unwavering optimism has consistently baffled Ethan, but this is whole new domain of incredulous ideals. Ethan shakes his head, unsure of the correct answer to this. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little too soon to be asking ourselves such a question?” He asks, taking a cautious sip of his black coffee.

Naveen shrugs indifferently, “I think the time to decide will be here sooner than we know.”

Before Ethan can retort both their pagers go off. Stealing a glance at each other they abandon their coffees and take off towards the hospital.

***

“Out of the way, Remini!” Ethan orders as he brushes past her, gurney in clutch.

She jumps aside, her small frame clinging to a supply closet door. She watches in wonder as he and other staff pushes a seizing patient down the hallway. Naveen finally catches up to them, which Ethan takes note of his delay. Usually he has no trouble keeping stride with Ethan, but as of right now he looks a little winded as he joins Ethan at his side.

“What do we have, Ethan?” He questions, for he didn’t make it in time for the nurse to brief him, too.

“This is the guy Mass Kenmore choppered over. Sustained seizures. They couldn’t figure out what’s wrong with him. His vitals tanked en route..,” his eyes dart between the rooms sandwiching them. “Damn, none of these beds are open.”

Naveen glances at an open O.R room that they’re approaching. “This O.R is free. We’ll examine him there.”

Young surgeons and doctors alike gather around the scene, all adorning hopeful faces that they might be able to work alongside the two best diagnosticians in the country. Ethan ignores them as best as he can, not letting their annoying presence distract him from the task at hand. They’re starting to talk over each other, pushing and shoving to get closer to the men.

“Dr. Banerji, can we watch you work? I’m qualified to--,”

“Get back! This isn’t the time for your damn resumes!” Ethan snaps, causing the girl to go wide-eyed. 

They make it into the O.R without anyone managing to sneak in with them. The two men work together to get the seizing patient onto the operating table, making sure his I.V stays intact and that he’s on his side and won’t choke on his tongue. Ethan plucks the chart from off of the side of the gurney and starts reading aloud the patient information.

“Male, mid-sixties. Admitted to Mass Kenmore for stomach pains and trouble breathing,” he flips the page. “Suddenly started convulsing and hasn’t stopped. Benzodiazepine’s done nothing.”

The patient groans besides them, sweat beading his creased forehead. “The seizures. Does he have a history?” Naveen investigates, looking solemnly at the deteriorating man. 

Ethan’s eyes diligently skim the chart, looking for any clues that might help them. “None that are recorded…,” he reads over the handwritten notes. “Wait, on the way off the chopper, he was talking to an E.M.T like she was his wife.”  
“And?” Naveen asks, for that can mean anything.

Ethan locks eyes with him, “This file says his wife’s been dead for seven years.”

“Hm. Hallucinations?” Naveen ponders out loud, his eyes flitting upwards in a bout of concentration. As soon as it dawns on him his face lights up. “Cryptogenic epilepticus with respiratory infection for kindling. Add a spark of failing benzodiazepine, and…,”

“You’ve got yourself F.I.R.E.S,” Ethan concludes, sighing a breath of relief though they’re not exactly done here.  
“Most likely caused by paraneoplastic disorder…,”

“… with anti-neuronal antibodies. Only one thing we can do to buy us time to find out,” Ethan completes the sentence in a hurried manner. “We need to put this man in a pharmacological coma.”

Naveen and Ethan get to work with prepping the patient and accumulating the materials needed to do the procedure. Naveen rifles through the drawers holding the drugs that they’ll need while Ethan strips down the patient and places him in a hospital gown. He sanitizes the injection site with the help of the O.R staff.

“We’ll use midazolam. Fast-action, lowest accumulation rate,” Naveen concedes, passing off the drug to a surgical nurse. 

They inject the patient and wait with bated breaths. Slowly, but thoroughly, the patient’s seizures start to subside. There’s a light applause from the surrounding staff as the two men give each other meaningful grins. “He’s under. Let’s get him in a room of his own and investigate our next move,” Naveen decides.

“I read a recent case study on recombinant IL-1R antagonists in these circumstances…,” Ethan pauses as he hears distant giggling coming from the observation deck. He glances up at the window with narrowed eyes. He sees two figures drop down just in time. “If anyone’s up there, I’ll have your career. You, go up and check.”

The nurse leaves at his orders and come back with a shake of her head. Ethan sighs but shrugs it off, there is much bigger fish to fry. “Alright, let’s prepare to transport the patient. I’ll tell you about the case later.”

***

It’s been a couple of days since the patient’s been admitted, and he’s been doing wonderfully in his recovery. He’s been out of his coma for a couple of hours, but the wear and tear the seizures caused on his body has made him rather fatigued. Ethan stands by his bed checking his vitals and administrating medication. The patient, now known as Adam Coburn, eyelids flit as if he’s dreaming. Ethan’s gaze sweeps over his face as he thinks about Adam’s wife and kids who visited him mere hours ago. He wonders if anyone would visit him if anything so bizarre were to happen.

He leaves the room to head to his office just as Naveen exits his patient’s room. His eyes sag with fatigue and even though he’s mustering up a bright smile it looks strained. He clasps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as they walk side by side. 

“Ethan, my boy!” The older man greets. 

Ethan automatically notices the slight tremor in Naveen’s hand. “Naveen,” he regards him coolly. “What are you doing here? I thought your last round was hours ago.”

A wistful look takes over Naveen’s face, almost as if he’s reminiscing on a far away memory. He looks at Ethan with the same look, a small smile pulling up his lips. “I wanted to look at this place one last time before I leave,” he reveals, his gaze unbreaking from Ethan’s face. 

Ethan stares at him incredulously. What does he mean before he leaves? “Before you go where? On a vacation?” He knows that isn’t the answer. Naveen hasn’t taken a day off since he’s met him. 

They’re about to reach the end of the hall when Naveen halts. For the first since Ethan’s known him, Naveen looks nervous. His eyes barely meet Ethan’s when he says, “I’m retiring.”

A slew of emotions course through Ethan instantaneously upon the two words hanging deadly in the air. He tries to pick up on any indication that Naveen’s joking by looking for a subtle tick, but he is as still and calm as ever. Ethan begins furiously shaking his head, as if he can get rid of the idea by dislodging it from his memory. 

“No. No, absolutely not,” Ethan stammers rubbing a hand shakily down his chin.

Naveen’s gaze softens at his young companion, “I am, Ethan. It’s about time that I do.”

How could he even think about retiring? There is so much more Ethan has left to learn, so many cases left unsolved. Naveen’s the only person who he’s put his full faith into, the only person who knows him better than himself. How could he not tell Ethan this information sooner? It’s not exactly something you decide on a whim. He starts walking fast down the hall, scared that if he stands there a second longer he might do something rash. Naveen is hot on his heels.

“You can’t do this, Naveen! I won’t let you!” Ethan barks, his knuckles turning white from how tightly his fists are balled.

“It must be done, Ethan. Not everything is in your control. It’s time you finally learned that,” Naveen calmly states, trying to pacify the enraged man in front of him.

Ethan nearly laughs at this. Naveen’s abandoning him and still wants to take claim as his mentor? No. “You are not my teacher anymore.”

“I am always your teacher.”

White hot furry blinds Ethan long enough for him to slam his fist into the wall. He looks at the dent he’s caused, the dent he feels within himself. “Dammit, Naveen!” He can’t look at him any longer, so he leaves him behind to sulk alone in his office.


	4. Friends Come And Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much bad news can Ethan handle in one day?

Early the next morning Ethan casually passes by Naveen’s office, which also happens to be the diagnostic room. With a mere glimpse inside he can see that the shelves are bare and the desk drawers are left opened; revealing their empty bellies. His throat begins feeling thick, and he has to swallow to relieve the tightness. He starts to walk away, but a bright green piece of paper lying on the desk halts his intentions. Naveen always leave notes for him written on that exact craft paper. Though he doubts it’s of any significance, he’d rather not have it weighing on his conscience the rest of the day.

He eases the sliding glass door open just enough for him to slip through. As he approaches the small wooden desk he can tell that the sprawl is clearly Naveen’s. He picks up the note and begins to read:

_Ethan_ ,

_Though it is unfortunate that I must tell you this way, I know you are in no position to be hearing this face-to-face. As I said last night I am retiring and that it will be effective immediately. As you may be wondering—what will happen to the diagnostics team? Well, my lad, it is an honor to say that I have appointed you the head of it. With that being said, there is now an open slot for a fellow doctor to take your old position. So, before I begin, you might want to sit down for this one._

He rolls his eyes.

_No seriously sit down you stubborn buffoon._

Stifling a laugh, he obeys.

_You’re not going to be happy with me, and that’s okay, I can live with that. Dr. Emery and I have agreed that the best person to fill in isn’t a resident… but an intern._

Oh, hell no—

_Oh, stop your complaining. There’s a sea of bright young minds waiting to shape the way of medicine, and you’re too cynical to respect that. So, there will be a competition among the interns to see who will succeed, and you will be the judge. Each day you will judge their performance and rank them accordingly. I trust you to choose wisely. If you have any grievance I won’t be persuaded by it, but you’ll know where to find me._

_I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I hoped I’d have more time._

_All the best,_

_Naveen._

Ethan stares down at the nearly weightless paper in his hands, though the words inscribed feel like a hundred pounds. There is so much to process, and so little time in the day to do so. He’ll need to speak with Harper first, try to convince her that this is very, very bad idea. Then he’ll have to suck up his pride and take a trip to Naveen’s lake house, for the final words of letter feel a little too cryptic for comfort. ‘I hoped I’d have more time’… what can he possibly mean by that?

A knock resonates from the door, startling Ethan out of his mind-consuming thoughts. Harper makes her way in, not even bothering to wait for approval. Unfortunately, Ethan doesn’t think he can muster enough energy to tell her to go away. She sits across from him, searching his face for the emotions that he’s trying hard to hide.

“I’m assuming you found the note?” She asks.

Ethan glares up at her, unsure of what to make of the woman in front of him anymore. “When did he tell you?”

Her stoic composure falters as she looks upon her ex love. She can tell how badly he’s hurting without him having to acknowledge it. “Last week,” she admits, looking him steadily in the eye. “He told me he wanted to make you head of diagnostics two days ago.”

Ethan can feel the anger boiling in his chest, threatening to spill out of his mouth. Maybe when they were dating would he show her his raw emotion, but the time for that has pass. He takes control of his tone before speaking. “And it didn’t dawn on you that this is news worth sharing? That I’m suddenly in charge of an intern’s career?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” she sighs, casting her gaze downwards. She takes in a sharp breath, willing herself to be tenacious. She gives him a warm smile. “Clearly Naveen deems you fit to be able to handle this, and if it means anything so do I. This is putting way more on your plate, and I apologize for that, but you’re resilient. There’s no one we trust more to pick the right candidate.”

Ethan mulls over her words, really letting them soak under his skin. He knows no matter how hard he might fight, between her and Naveen he’ll never win. Three stubborn people with two on the same side. He undoubtedly feels capable of leading a team, of picking a person to potentially lead the time once he’s gone, but will he be able to live up to Naveen’s legacy? Will his colleagues treat him with the equal amount of respect? That pressure alone makes him want to buckle.

“This is preposterous, Harper! They’re not ready,” he yells, a sudden wave of frustration crashing over him.

She moves to closer to him, her eyes shimmering with concern. “… Ethan,” she soothes, dropping her voice to a hush. “They can do this. I know they can. Especially with you as their guide.”

She reaches out and lays a hand on his cheek, softly stroking the stubble with her thumb. Ethan almost gives into the sensation, for it’s something hasn’t felt in quite a while. But there is no longer a “them”, just a Harper and an Ethan. Two separate beings who work together. He grabs her hand and places it at her side, letting it go.

“I’m sorry, but my answer is no,” he confirms.

She sighs, obviously annoyed with his unwavering persistence to not cooperate. “I’m not asking you, Ethan. I’m telling you.”

Ethan lets out a humorous laugh, “What else is new?” His eyes soften only slightly, but the fire in his voice is still crystal clear. “I know this is your hospital now. Your call. But I’m warning you… I’ll fight you every step of the way on this.”

There’s a moment of recognition between them, as they’ve had arguments like this before. That’s why it never worked out between the two, why Ethan decided to end things when Harper became chief. They would… will… reach a mutual conclusion on matters of which they are both passionate about. The respect for one another is there, but the loyalty is burnt out like a lingering flame.

“What else is new?” Harper grins, mocking his words in a way that floods back memories of when he’d kiss her after they both had nothing left to say.

She opts for a kiss on the cheek, her lips lingering a bit too long on his skin before she walks away.

***

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Martinez?” Ethan asks as he enters the patient’s room.

She looks up from the puzzle that she’s expertly putting together and shoots him a gleaming smile. “Oh, hush! You’re not my doctor, you don’t need to be asking me such things,” she teases, patting the space next to her for him to join.

He gladly accepts, relieved to have some sort of normalcy to this crazy day. He skims over the pieces still needing to find a home, and finds one to place in the far-right corner. Mrs. Martinez grins broadly at that, and with a little searching finds the correlating piece. They spend a few minutes in silence putting together the corner piece of the puzzle, then sit back to admire their speedy work. The puzzle is a picture of the Taj Mahal, a postcard that she doesn’t have.

“How are _you_ feeling today, Dr. Ramsey?” She inquisitively asks, clearing picking up on the quietness of her companion.

He shrugs, “Not too great, to be honest. Though I’d rather not discuss it.”

She nods her head at this, then abruptly stands up. Ethan raises an eyebrow. “Let’s not talk about it then! How about you accompany me on my walk and tell me about your troubled youth?” She suggests.

Ethan grins for the first time that day and gladly accepts her offer. She wraps an arm around his and he slowly walks with her through the hallways, recounting the time where he dug up the entire backyard in search for a lunchbox he buried in kindergarten. His dad came home early, leaving him no time to conceal the evidence.

“So, what did you do?” Mrs. Martinez asks, her eyes glued to Ethan in captivation of his story.

“I blamed it on the dog, of course!” Ethan laughs, nudging her gently in the side.

She laughs back, shaking her head with glee. “You wicked thing! Oh, but I’m sure you were a lovely boy,” she sighs wistfully.

“More like a loveable scoundrel. I got away with _everything_.”

They make it back to her room and she reluctantly releases her grasp on Ethan. They exchange their goodbyes before he starts his way down the hall. The moment his eyes land on the Rookie the smile evaporates from his lips. He can’t help but to be reminded of the daunting task given to him at the sight of her. She has a goofy grin plastered on her face.

“Why are you gawping like a fish that’s jumped out of its bowl?” He gibes.

She shakes her head as if pulling herself out of a trance. “Nothing. It just looked like you were having fun,” she avows.

He was having fun. After the day he’s had he needed the time with a patient of whom he has seen since he’s started working at Edenbrook. Emotional support is just as conducive as medicinal care, even more so. He isn’t about to reveal his grief to her, so instead he opts for something much more realistic to his character.

“I care for the wellbeing of the people who’ve entrusted their care to me, Rookie. That’s all,” he says as if Mrs. Martinez was the one who needed healing this time.

She makes a face as if she doesn’t believe him. “Right. Okay, I gotta go. Dolores Hudson isn’t going to examine herself…,”

“Did you just say _Dolores Hudson?”_ He questions, his tone on the brink of disbelief.

He hasn’t heard from her in months. The last time they went to lunch is when she first found out that she was pregnant. At the time Ethan had just received a place on the diagnostic team and Dolores was trying to figure out how to get ready to be a single parent. Due to the business of life they haven’t had much contact since, and it worries him beyond belief that she has been admitted. Is her baby okay?

“Yes?” The Rookie answers, mystified by his reaction.

“I’m coming with you.”

Ethan follows the Rookie to Dolores room, ringing his hands together along the way in a nervous gesture. When they enter the room Dolores is sitting upright in bed, a cannula placed in her nose. Her belly is swollen to the point where it looks like it might burst any second, and even though she looks tired her face is glowing.

“Hi, Dolores, I’m…,”

“ _Ethan!”_ She cries out, grinning broadly at her old friend.

“Dolores! What have you gotten yourself into this time?” He teases, taking a seat on the armchair besides her.

She rolls her eyes good naturedly, “There was a fire at my office. I was upstairs filing away some papers. The elevator shut down, and I couldn’t get down the stairs.”

“I’ll call your sisters so they can fly in from Minneapolis in the morning. I’m so glad you’re safe.” Dolores had given him her sister’s contact information when the first met at the hospital, and to this day Ethan still has them saved in his phone.

“I’m glad you have Superman on payroll. The E.M.T. who carried me out was a total hunk,” she says dreamily.

The Rookie uncomfortably steps up, obviously not wanting to break apart the reunion. “Uh… I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’d like to listen to Dolores’s chest,” she says, motioning to her stethoscope.

Ethan blinks at her, he nearly forgot that she was in the room. “Dolores, this is Dr. Remini. Dolores was my very first patient when I was intern,” he enlightens.

A smirk toys on the Rookie’s lips as she focuses her attention on the patient. “Wow! Dolores, was he always so mean?”

“I don’t think he was quite so grouchy. But he definitely had an edge,” she discloses, grinning at the young doctor.

The Rookie really doesn’t know how easy she has it. “Trust me, Dr. Remini, you’ll know if you ever see me ‘mean’.”

She shoots him a sheepish grin before pulling out her stethoscope and warming up the cold metal on the palm of her hand. She presses it against Dolores’s chest, focusing intently on the sound of her heart and lungs.

“Deep breath for me, Dolores. And if you don’t mind my asking, what brought you in back then?” She questions, trying to keep the patient’s nerves at bay.

Dolores’s face illuminates as she recalls the untimely event. “Burst appendix. I was totally freaked out, but Ethan calmed me down. Even kept in touch a bit over the years.”

Ethan remembers that day well. He was already feeling like a fish out of water – a little too mature for the rest of his colleagues but not brighter than the attendings. He didn’t say a single word that wasn’t work-related to anyone the entire day, until Dolores’s bubbly face greeted him on his first round. He initially just went through the motions, not daring to reveal his humanistic side in fear of rejection. But as the days progressed she slowly brought him out of his shell and they became friends. Now here she is, ten years later and is still the same as ever.

“Dr. Ramsey has friends?” The Rookie jives, not bothering to conceal her sly smile.

“Careful, Rookie…,” Ethan warns.

Dolores beams at the banter between the two. “The answer is yes. We don’t get to catch up in person often, but we email!”

“I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised. It doesn’t seem like you to care about a patient once they’ve walked out the door,” the Rookie unthoughtfully admits.

For a moment that comment throws Ethan into a stupor. Does she really see him as someone incapable of empathy? Of basic care for another individual? He knows that he comes across rather gruff and aloof, but he’s a doctor, after all. Doctors should care deeply for the people they’re helping, not just look at the mechanical side of things.

“I was young. On hard days, knowing they were out there, living life to the fullest… it kept me going,” he reluctantly admits.

The Rookie turns towards him while removing the stethoscope. Her furrowed eyebrows say it all before her words can. “Her breathing is short, as you’d expect. I think we should get her a chest X-ray.”

He acquires the chart that one of the nurses just dropped off, and as he reads down the page a frown begins to form on his lips. The Rookie moves in close, her eyes skimming over the words, trying to figure what’s causing his dismay. “What is it?” She asks, her voice a mere whisper. 

“Her elevated B.P. Should be low after smoke inhalation. Let’s take a urine sample too,” he whispers back, a growing feeling of uneasiness gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

“Excuse me, Dr. Remini? I remember having my purse on me when the hunk carried me out. Did they bring it in?” Dolores interrupts.

The Rookie’s eyes scan the room for something bulky, and they land on a brown purse resting besides the bed. She plucks it from the ground and hands it over to Dolores, who instantly starts rummaging through it. A frown pulls down her lips and she starts pulling out items in a frantic manner. She shakes her head, letting out a drastic sigh.

“It’s not here! I must have dropped it outside the office,” her eyes meet Ethan’s. “It sounds stupid, but I saw this adorable stuffed frog on my lunch break and had to buy it for my little tadpole.”

She absentmindedly strokes her round stomach before continuing, “Both of my parents are gone, and the father’s not in the picture. I just want everything to be perfect for him.”

The Rookie takes Dolores’s hand in hers, reassuringly stroking the back of it with her thumb. “It doesn’t sound stupid, Dolores. In fact, it sounds like you’re going to be a great mom.”

“Thank you. I just… I really wish I hadn’t lost that little frog.”

The Rookie stares off distantly, as if she’s churning something over in her mind. She quickly steals at glance at Ethan, and in her eyes there’s a flash of concern. Before Ethan can ask what she’s thinking, she blurts out, “Ethan and I will go find it!”

“Really, Ethan? You’d do that for me?” Dolores’s tone is swimming in hopefulness.

“Er, ahem. Well…,” he clears his throat. “Of course. But Dr. Remini, let’s get that urine sample to the lab first. I’ll give you ten minutes, then meet you in the lot.”

Dolores lips part to reveal a cheerful smile. “I’m twenty-six weeks pregnant. Not gonna take ten minutes to get me to pee!”

***

Impenetrable silence fills the unmoving car as Ethan waits for the Rookie to arrive. Ethan takes the unusual time of solitude to reflect on how he ended up in this predicament. He’s always been one to pride himself on his above and beyond patient care attributes, always sticking his neck out even in difficult cases. Though somehow it seems like Dr. Remini might be giving him a run for his money. Regardless of his great admiration for Dolores, he would have never dreamed to go fetch her five-dollar stuffed animal. Dr. Remini, on the other hand, offered with no hesitation. He’s never met someone so adamant on surprising him.

He sees her approaching out of the corner of his eye and unlocks the doors right as she begins to pull the handle. She clambers into the passenger seat, her eyes grazing the leather interior and new technology. “Whoa. This is a great car!” She compliments.

“What did you expect, a rusted-out jalopy?” He questions, wondering if she thinks he just doesn’t care about anything.

She doesn’t respond so he turns on the radio, a concerto filling the noiseless void. He isn’t sure why, but the infringing feeling of her misperceiving him is causing a restless tension within himself. Absentmindedly he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, mentally telling himself not to give any nonverbal cues that’s he uncomfortable. She must know that he cares about some things… right? He’s irritated that this is even bugging him.

“So… what’s up with you and Dr. Emery?” She asks, catching him totally off guard.

He gives her sharp look in response.

“I saw you together earlier. It looked intimate,” she reveals.

Ethan recalls the moment of heated emotions in the diagnostic’s room, he remembers the feeling of Harper’s hand on his cheek. “I don’t like advertising my private life at work,” he informs her stiffly, hoping she’ll drop the subject.

“I’m just trying to figure out the politics of this place if I’m gonna survive here,” she says innocently.

Historically, Ethan would’ve shut down the conversation without a lick of hesitation. But, he still has the itch to prove himself to be a caring individual, so he indulges on his past just enough. “In that case… we were an item. And then only on again, off again.”

“And now?” The Rookie’s eyes watch his face intently.

He thinks back on earlier today, the way Harper kissed his cheek before she left him. He tries to recall if that evoked any emotion from him, if there are still any lingering feelings of intimacy. He draws a blank. “Off. As of last year, she’s my boss,” which is the reason why he initially broke it off, but the reality is that they were just not compatible. “Not that my personal life is any of your business.”

“My lips are sealed,” she grins.

“Good,” he grins back.

The Rookie looks quizzically at the lampposts blurring by, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth. Ethan’s seen this look before, primarily when she needs to break bad news to a patient or ask a rather uncomfortable question. He can’t help but to wonder if she’s going to ask about dating one her colleagues, for she’s already brought up work place romance. He surly hopes not.

“… So, did Dr. Banerji really quit?” She hesitantly inquires.

Ah, he should’ve figured that the word would’ve already reached the interns. He’s already had two attendings ask him about it today, each time he’d walk off without an explanation; though, that’s rather hard to do in a moving car. “I was wondering when you’d get around to asking that.”

“And? Did he?” She adjusts her body so that she’s facing him more directly.

“Yes.”

Her mouth gapes open. “But that’s huge! Did he say why he was leaving?”

Ethan grimaces internally. He understands why people would expect him to the inside knowledge, and him himself believes that he should have it, too. However, Naveen made it clear that whatever the reason is, Ethan is better off not knowing about it. He almost feels betrayed that Harper knows, but she’s in charge and is supposed to. He can’t really be upset at that.

“That’s between him and the chief,” he says impassively.

“So, you’re in charge of the diagnostics team now. That’s gotta be a lot of pressure,” she presses on, apparently not keen on the company of silence.

Though it slightly annoys him, he is grateful that he has someone to talk to about this who isn’t shoving the duties down his throat. “More than you can imagine. Naveen built that team from his own blood, sweat, and tears. I can’t let him down now that he’s moved on,” he opens up.

“Is this what you want?” The question alone makes him pause.

No one has yet to consider his feelings in all of this. Either they’re excited for him, assuming he shares in the feeling, or, in Harper’s case, could care less if the impending pressure is making him anxious beyond belief. Is this what he wants? Or is it what he wants to impress Naveen with?

“What I want is to confront the impossible mysteries of the human body, and understand,” he nimbly dodges the actual answer.

Of course, she won’t let him off that easy. “Okay, but back here on earth… Did you always want to lead the diagnostic team?”

He considers the question carefully before he speaks, “The team gives me the opportunity to face the questions no one has answered, so in that respect, I suppose the answer is yes.”

They lapse into another silence, which gives Ethan the time to think thoroughly about his feelings on being the head of diagnostics. What he said isn’t a lie, he is in a way thankful for the gift that has been bestowed upon him. However, he’s petrified that he’ll only stunt the teams growth with his direction. Naveen had a different way of seeing things, a way that Ethan could never dare to replicate. He falls short on his ability to be patient and kind, but knows he makes up for it in other aspects of his personality. Will it be enough?

“You know, I’m actually surprised you were up for this rescue mission,” the Rookie’s voice slices through his thoughts.

He grins broadly, a sarcastic note in his tone, “You don’t think I want to spend my time searching for stuffed animals?”

“I thought you’d think it was pointless. I mean… it’s just a stuffed frog, right?” She says, confirming his suspicions.

He gives her sidelong glance, “You think I’m some emotionless machine, don’t you?”

“Not entirely machine. Cyborg, maybe? Dr. Terminator?” She teases, clearly trying to back pedal.

Now’s his chance to make a final decision: to convey the persona of emotional disconnect, or to lead her to a new way of seeing him. “In that case, even a cyborg would site the studies showing how emotional attachment can play statistically significant roles in patient recovery,” he breaks out into a smile, preparing to tease her back. “So not even I, ‘Dr. Terminator,’ think it’s just a toy.”

“And Dolores is a friend.”

“She’s a patient first, while she’s in our care. But yes, she’s also a friend,” he glances at her, a playful gleam in his eye, “if a stuffed frog will help her get through this, then I’ll find her the damn frog.”

The Rookie’s face lights up as if she’s seeing him for the first time. “I think you might be a softie at heart, Dr. Ramsey,” she speculates.

Alright, he definitely doesn’t need that idea getting pitched around the hospital. “Far from it. I’m practical. And that’s enough prying for now. We’re here.”

He turns the car into a deserted parking lot, the fiery glow of the inferno building reflecting off the Rookie’s face. She stares at it in horror, her eyes being caught in between the ever-growing flames and the firefighters trying to combat it. Ethan opens the car door and it snaps her out of the trance; she quickly follows suit. They pull their shirts up above their noses, trying hard to not inhale the smoke. It reeks of burning plaster and ash, and soon enough the Rookie is trying to suppress a coughing fit.

They make their way across the street to where the ambulance might’ve parked. The heat grows thicker in the air and it makes Ethan debate taking off his coat. Ash falls around them like apoplectic snowflakes, threatening to burn holes in their clothing. The Rookie is already skimming her surroundings, looking for a fluffy green body in the midst of chaos.

“We can search the perimeter, but if it fell from her purse in there...,” he looks forlornly at the crumbling building.

The Rookie gives his arm a gentle squeeze, “Let’s hope it didn’t.”

They saunter along the street together, each looking in different directions so they can thoroughly survey the area. Talking seems unfavorable, so they keep quiet with just the noise of power hoses expelling in the background. After fifteen minutes of no luck their patience seems to be running thin, and Ethan almost asks to head back… until a green leg pops out from the street curb.

“Look, there in the storm drain!” He points to abysmal thing.

The Rookie’s face contorts into disbelief as she stares upon him ludicrously. “Oh, hell no. I am not going down there! Haven’t you seen ‘It’?”

“Seen what?” He deadpans.

She blinks, and then pulls herself together. “Never mind. We’ll lower me in,” she decides, already rolling up her sleeves. “I’d fall in headfirst if I tried to reach it on my own, but not if you hang onto my hand.”

“Sounds like it’s worth a shot.” 

She flattens herself onto the ground and wiggles her top half into the storm drain, he holds on tight as she tips over. “Can you reach?” He yells down.

“Al…most… Got it!” She beckons, which is his cue to pull her back out.

Once her shoulders are out he hoists her up, steadying her onto her feet. Without thought he starts dusting away the soot that’s collected on her coat until it’s clean enough. She doesn’t seem to notice the gesture. She blithely displays the blackened-frog to Ethan, an accomplished smile toying on her lips. He looks at the frog disdainfully, not wanting it near Dolores without it being properly disinfected, first.

“Mission accomplished,” the Rookie beams.

“Excellent work. You can give Dolores the good news when we get back,” it was her idea to retrieve the damn thing, after all.

She looks down at the filthy toy in her hands. “After we sterilize this, of course. We wouldn’t want it anywhere near a pregnant woman, otherwise.”

“My thoughts precisely,” he grins.

***

The Rookie is off monitoring her other patients while Ethan keeps Dolores company. The sanitation team brought the stuffed animal by a few minutes ago, and he has never seen his friend light up so brightly. She hugs the animal against her chest as she chats way with her old companion. They caught each other up on the few months of radio silence. Ethan is in the midst of telling her about his new dilemma with the diagnostic team.

“-- And he just appointed me lead without a say! I still don’t even know why he retired,” he sighs wearily, resting his head against the wall.

Dolores nods as he speaks. She’s always takes what he says seriously and carefully churns over her answer before delivering it. “From what you’ve told me, he doesn’t seem like the type of person to just up and leave. I’m sure there’s something amiss that he’s just not ready to talk about,” she sends him a sympathetic look. “And about becoming the leader, I think you’re perfect for the job. I’ve never had a doctor who cares so passionately about their patients like you.”

His nerves settle ever so slightly, enough for him to loosen his rigid posture. She’s right, of course, that Naveen has something he isn’t saying, and he had planned to figure out today before Dolores arrived. He’ll just stop by his house early tomorrow before rounds, and hopefully can straighten it out before he’s needed at work. In regards to her believing he’ll be good in Naveen’s position; he can’t help but to feel a bit more confident. It’s always helpful to have an outside opinion that isn’t spoon-fed.

“Oh, and Ethan?” He looks over to see her lips pulled up and knowing smirk, “Dr. Remini is a keeper.”

He furrows his eyebrows at this, “Excuse me?”

“Relax, I don’t mean romantically… although, she’s is quite gorgeous,” she wiggles her eyebrows at him, knowing he’ll scoff in response. “I meant that she’s an excellent doctor, and I know with you as mentor she’ll become even greater. This hospital really got lucky with her.”

He reflects fondly on the miniscule amount of time spent with the Rookie, and how somehow she always proves herself to be a fine doctor. He feels as though the car ride really let him see her in a different light for the first time, and vice versa. He opened up to her, though unsubstantially, yet he rarely does so with anyone else. She’s just so… unapologetically herself. Her patients are the real winner here.

“Yes, we certainly did,” he admits, feeling himself give into a small smile.

They spend their remaining time waiting on the Rookie’s test results by watching a cliché comedy, one that has them laughing at the absurdity. They take turns making fun of the horrendous characters, mocking their poorly-written dialogues. Dolores rests the frog on her belly as she gleefully watches the T.V. Ethan forgot how comforting it is to have a genuine friend who he doesn’t work with, although it’s unfortunate that they’re catching up at his place of employment.

A soft knock echoes from the door, and Ethan’s eyes meets the Rookie’s as she waltzes in. Her face is perfectly still, which makes Ethan’s heart begin to thud. Doctors have to perfect their poker face so they don’t unintentionally alarm their patient’s. He knows that if the Rookie had goods news her face would be more relaxed. She hands over labs, and as he reads his face begins to fall. He steps outside the room, motioning her to follow. He’d rather not discuss the results in front of Dolores.

“She has serious preeclampsia. Her baby’s in trouble, isn’t it?” The Rookie looks at him solemnly.

Ethan swallows hard. Out of everything that’s happened today this is the last thing he wanted to see. “Yes. Let’s go tell her.”

He turns to go but stops when he notices the Rookie’s lack of movement. She’s biting her lip, her eyebrows scrunched in hesitation. A flashback scores through his mind from the first awful case he had. The feeling of guilt for delivering bad news gnawing away at him before he entered the room. The look of immense sorrow plaguing the patient’s face. The sobs of the family when the patient died. He wants to reach out to her, give her comfort, but she also needs to do this on her own strength.

“This is the job, Rookie. Come on.”

Upon entering, Dolores face falls drastically. She’s eyes the two doctors suspiciously, not liking how serious they look compared to earlier. “What is it? Ethan?” She’s addresses her friend, hoping to find comfort in his words.

This isn’t his news to tell. He glances over at the young blonde standing next to him and nods for her to step up to the plate. “Dolores, you have preeclampsia,” she informs, squaring her shoulders.

“Meaning?”

“It’s a relatively common condition among pregnant women, but in this case it’s threatening you and your baby,” the Rookie pushes on, though Ethan can see her fingers curling and uncurling in discomfort.

Dolores’s eyes grow wide, the color draining from her face. “My baby’s in danger?” She yelps, her voice shaky.

“The blood flow to the placenta is slowing. It could soon deprive your baby of vital nutrients and oxygen,” Ethan takes over, giving the intern a chance to catch her breath.

Dolores start to shake her head furiously, “But… everything feels fine! I can still feel the baby kicking!”

The stages of grief are notorious in patient’s suffering from dehumanizing conditions. Ethan has helped numerous of them through it, all while being able to keep himself separated from sharing in it. That is when he isn’t friends with the patient. Seeing Dolores go through it is heartbreaking, it’s something he never expected to witness. He’ll follow the motions, try to talk her down, try to make her see reason, but he knows it’ll be hopeless endeavor.

“Dolores, this just means we’re going to have to deliver the baby early,” his tone is soft.

“No! It’s too soon!” She says, progressing to denial.

The Rookie tries her hand at comforting her: “Babies delivered at twenty-six weeks have a good chance at survival.”

“A… a chance?”

“He’ll have to spend some time in the N.I.C.U., and yes, there’s risk of post-birth complications--,”

“And some don’t make it at all! Is my baby in danger right now?” Dolores cuts her off, rage consuming her being.

Ethan stares down at his dear friend, a mix of anger and sorrow that she’s in the plight weighing on him heavily. She’s diving into the stage of bargaining, and you just can’t bargain with science. He so desperately wants to tell her what she wants to hear, even if it takes her grief away for only a moment. But he is a doctor and he’s swore an oath to care for a patient, and lying to them is definitely not in the framework of that.

“Not immediately, no. But--,”

“Then my little tadpole is staying put,” she confirms, resolution set in her eyes.

“Dolores--,”

“No, Ethan! Just… give me a week. Give me as long as you can. Please,” bargaining at full force. It’s futile, for there’s not even an hour to give.

He gives his friend a desperate look, hoping to will her to see the danger she’s in through his eyes. She glances away. “I’ll give you tonight. To come to your senses,” and that’s what he leaves her with.

The Rookie and him step out into the hallway, the fluorescent lighting more blaring than its ever been. “I’ll keep checking on her. Maybe we can talk her around,” she suggests, trying to alleviate the burden of her mentor.

Ethan can’t have her here any longer. With Dolores’s abiding stubbornness, he has a bad feeling that tonight will not end well. The young intern has already stayed past her dues, and this is a case that will have her awake the rest of the night. Besides, Ethan acknowledges the tightness in his throat and the burning sensation behind his eyes. He’d rather be alone to dwell in his sorrow. He surely doesn’t need the Rookie seeing that.

“No. Just go home. Your shift’s been over for hours already,” he dismisses her.

“But--,”

“I’m taking over this case. You’re.. not ready for it,” and he be damned if he is, either.

He distances himself from her, pushing deeper and deeper into the hallway where he hopes no one will find him. He makes a right down the corridor that’s still under construction, loose plastic sheets and planks of wood threatening to trip his feet. He busts through the door of a half-completed hospital room; a bed covered in plastic protection pressed up against the wall. He sits down on it, propping his elbows on his knees and sheltering his face into his hands.

Breathe, Ethan, breathe.

His shoulders ache from the residual tension of the day, his throat sore from all the grief. Ordinarily he’d be able to keep calm and steadfast during such arduous times, but he feels submerged in water and every heartache today anchoring to him to the seafloor. The car ride with Leah was the first breath of air he took today and now he’s pushed away his only lifeline. He hopes she’s doing something that’s taking her mind off the case.

He stays in the room for another thirty minutes or so, working up the courage to put on his stoic façade. Before he makes his way to Dolores’s room he stops by the bathroom and looks at his reflection in the mirror. His under eyes are smudged with purple and his hair looks disheveled. He splashes his face with cool water and dries it off with a paper towel, hoping to regain some type of liveliness in his features. He adjusts his tie and heads down the hall.

Dolores is staring blankly at the wall. The T.V has been turned off and an eerie silence fills the void. She doesn’t even bother to look up when Ethan enters the room. “Dolores? I know you don’t want us pressuring you, but you have to make a decision soon. I’m not sure if you are completely aware of how much danger you are in right now,” Ethan warns yet again, though he tries to keep his tone delicate.

She stays silent for a little while longer, but eventually sighs, “I am aware, Ethan, you just don’t understand. You can’t understand.”

“Try me,” he offers, sitting down beside her.

“You’re not a mother. You’ve never carried a little human inside you for months. You’ve never loved someone that you’ve never met,” her eyes begin to get glassy. “I’m supposed to protect my tadpole from all of lives dangerous. But isn’t that supposed to start once he’s out of my womb? This little man is all I have left… I…,”

She trails off, tears rolling down her cheeks and plopping onto the stuffed animal. Ethan watches her in anguish, wishing he had better answers for her. “The best way you can protect him, and yourself, right now is by eliminating your risk factors as much as you can. Please, Dolores, please let us deliver him. I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”

Their eyes meet, and for a hopeful moment the resolve in her eyes starts to diminish. “Thank you for being my friend through all of these years, I wish I could tell you just how valuable your friendship is to me,” she gives him a tight lip smiled. “I just don’t think I’m ready to take the chance.”

“Dolores, I--,”

As if in slow motion, she starts to seize.

***

She’s wearing a tight black dress as she rushes into the waiting room. Her blonde pony slightly askew from the running that she probably did. She glances around the all but empty room, her eyes landing on the man who can’t seem to hear anything but the ringing in his head. She’s walking over to him, and he knows that she is, but he can’t seem to find the energy to pick his head up and acknowledge her.

“Dr. Ramsey? What happened? Where’s Dolores?” She’s frantic, her eyes searching for clues that he isn’t able to give.

“…” Silence.

He can see her shift her weight, obviously waiting for him to answer her. She’ll find out sooner or later, and it is best that she hears it from him. “Dolores had a seizure. Full eclampsia. We had no choice but to deliver the baby. It’s fifty-fifty he’ll survive the night.”

“And Dolores?” Her voice is choking, as if she already knows the answer.

“She died.”

He finally manages to glance up at her, though he wishes he hadn’t. Her eyes are red-rimmed and tears are beginning to slide down her cheeks. She’s breathing heavily in such a way that it seems as though it’s hard for her to breathe. Ethan wants to reach out to her, to console her, but he’s afraid he might start crying if he does.

“Dr. Ramsey, I’m so…,”

“I’m fine,” he says abruptly, standing up and striding away before she can say more.

***

He’s never felt so alone.

He always had Naveen to turn to during a tumultuous case, and at the very least Harper, but now with both of them out of arms reach he feels encapsulated by his own head. The only thing keeping him afloat is knowing that he has to set the correct example to the Rookie. She needs to know that it’s okay to grieve, to feel the heavy loss of a human being, but to be able to regain control and be better for the next.

He wills himself to go to Dolores’s room, hoping he’s not too late to secure the stuffed frog before cleaning collects her belongings. Sandra, one of the cleaning specialists, already has Dolores’s items stuffed in a concealed plastic bag. Ethan scans through the contents, trying to see bright green fabric in the mix.

“Did you so happen to come across a stuff frog?” He asks her.

She glances up at him, removing one of their headphones from her ear. “Another doctor came by earlier and picked up. I didn’t get her name but she was young and blonde.”

Ethan thanks her and makes his way to the N.I.C.U on a hunch.

He finds the Rookie with her back faced towards him, her finger poking through the protectant into the incubator of whom he assumes to be Dolores’s baby. He watches her for a moment before announcing his presence. Even after her patient is gone she is still caring for her, something most doctors wouldn’t even consider. She’s changed back into her professional attire.

“What are you still doing here?” Ethan queries, causing her to turn around to face him.

“I’m going to stay with him tonight. I hate the idea of him having to fight for his life alone,” she reveals, her face still etched with sorrow.

He glances around at the doctors bustling about, all more than capable to take care of the tiny human attached to her finger. “There are plenty of doctors working overnight. If something happens, they’ll be here.” 

“I know.”

He nods in understanding, for he had planned to spend the night in the N.I.C.U as well; knowing Dolores would want nothing more than for her baby to be surrounded with love. His face softens at the preemie. He will never know the extraordinary woman that was his mother. His eyes find the small stuffed frog placed inside the incubator – at least he’ll have a token of her to cling onto when he’s feeling lost.

“Would you mind if I joined you?” He manages to ask though his voice is strained.

“Not at all. Plenty of room here,” she moves over to make more space on the couch.

He sits beside her, just enough room that their knees don’t touch. The woosh of ventilator fills the space where conversation would usually take place. His eyes stay trained on the small body, heart swelling as he snuggles closely to the stuffed animal. He wonders if he can smell Dolores’s scent on the fabric and if that’s allowing a small amount of comfort.

“You gave him the frog. Dolores would have been…,” the smile drops from his face. “She would have been pleased.”

The Rookie turns her face subtly away from him, but before she’s able to completely he can see the sheen of tears crowding around her eyes. He’s been in her position long ago; he can recall losing his first patient so distinctly that the wound from it feels like it’s never fully closed. The first ones are always the hardest; those are the ones that remind you that you don’t have all the answers and can’t save everyone. They make you doubt you capabilities as a doctor, your capabilities of controlling your emotions. And the kicker is… it never gets easier.

“The first patient I lost… was in my fourth week. I didn’t make any mistakes. He had stage four metastatic melanoma. He just… fought like hell and lost,” memories bubble up in his mind as he speaks. “I liked him. He wasn’t much older than I am now. I knew he didn’t have long to live, but it still hit me hard.”

His patient’s name was Kevin Cooper. He had a laugh so thunderous and unapologetic that it would make you smile even on the worst days. He’d keep Ethan in check, always chewing him out if he was being too serious or only focusing on the medical side of things. The cancer gave him a new perspective on life, matured him in ways that he wouldn’t had without it. After he passed Ethan still kept in contact with his family, making sure to help them if need be. There’s very few patient’s he’s done that for, and now already half of them are dead.

“I can’t let this get to me,” she hastily wipes away her tears. “There’ll be a new patient tomorrow, and another after that… if I get too in my head about this, I’ll let them down.”

She’s smart in saying that, he can totally sympathize on her proposition. “That’s true. You don’t want one death to become two,” he meets her eye, wanting her to be fully aware of what he’s about to say. “… But you also shouldn’t push it entirely out. Feel it, learn from it. Vow to be better. Just know… this wasn’t your fault. Or mine. Or Dolores’s. We all made the best decisions we could with the information we had.”

She shakes her head, frustration still running its course. “But I need to be better than this. I failed her! I should’ve seen this coming!”

“It’s important to push yourself, Rookie, but you will take a lot of losses. We all do. What matters is coming back stronger,” he mollifies.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You’re usually so…,”

“Demanding?” He stares off distantly, trying to assimilate the right words. “There are doctors with unlimited patience. I’m not one of them. Energy I could use socializing, or making someone’s day better, I put towards my patients. They’re who I’m here for.”

“But you’re a teacher, too,” she points out, as if that changes his approach.

“One of many, and you shouldn’t model yourself after any of us. Idolatry among physicians is absurd. We’re here to teach you practical medicine. You need to find your own way of being a doctor,” he counters.

She mulls over his words, “But… how do I do that?”

“You already are.”

This is what he needs her to discover, that her own attributes to medicine are blossoming as they speak. She doesn’t need him to her hold her hand, or tell her that he empathizes with her woes. She’ll begin to rely on him for the building of her character, and with that comes an unintentional mimicking of his behavior. She needs to stand on her own two feet without the knowledge of Ethan being in the background to make sure she doesn’t wobble.

The baby stretches, his tiny hands opening and closing. Ethan places his finger in the guard, giving the tiny form access to clutch onto it. “She named him after you,” the Rookie murmurs, catching Ethan off guard.

He promptly glances at the name plate, his heart constricting a bit at the sight. He swallows hard, afraid of the tears burning behind his eyes. “I… see she did.”

“You must have known Dolores a long time,” the blonde says, trying to make the conversation light.

“Over ten years. When I first emailed her I only meant to check in. But she was recently divorced, feeling alone, so she insisted on coffee,” a small smile begins tugging on his lips as he recalls the time spent with his dear friend. “And then it turned into more emails and meeting once every couple of months for Sunday roast.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

One of the few that he has… had. “I didn’t make friends easily when I started here, so I was always grateful to her for that,” he admits bashfully.

He swallows hard again, the expanding lump in his throat refusing to part way. He can feel his eyes turning red at the grief of the day. He can feel Naveen’s note pressed against his thigh in his pocket. He can feel Harper’s unwanted kiss against his cheek. He can feel the lingering warmth of Dolores’s hand as they watched the comedy together earlier this evening. Oh, how much can change in a matter of hours.

The Rookie’s hand finds its way on top of his, and the small gesture is exactly what he needs. “I’m so sorry this happened,” her voice is soft, honest.

He looks up at her through his teary vision. Their eyes lock for a long a moment, the heat of her hand making his heart hurt less. “Me too,” he clears his throat. “I think we need coffee.”

“I can get some,” she offers without hesitation.

The thought of the sorry-excuse for coffee the cafeteria tries to sell makes him involuntarily shudder. “No, I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take him long to brew two cups of coffee from his personal machine in his office and to make it back to the N.I.C.U. He hands over one of the mugs to Dr. Remini, who takes a grateful sip. Her eyes light up from the flavor, obviously not expecting it to be good. She should’ve realized that he’d never drink subpar coffee.

“This doesn’t taste like cafeteria coffee!” She beams, taking another gulp.

Ethan smiles back and replies, “This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again. Nobody knows I have it, so…,”

She mimes zipping her lips, “I won’t tell a soul.”

They stay planted next to each other long into the night, chatting about anything that’ll keep their minds off of the day they had. Dr. Remini tells him about her family back home, and how her little sister is considering med school to follow in her footsteps. Her face illuminates as she talks about her family, it’s clear that her love for people reaches to every extent. Ethan listens intently, letting her anecdotes overlap the memories of his own dysfunctional family.

Hours later her eyes are beginning to show the signs of exhaustion, and her speech begins to slur. She’s forgetting parts of stories or retelling them in an ability to remember what she’s just said. Ethan wants to tell her to go home and get some rest, that he’ll watch over baby Ethan while she’s gone… but, she looks so content. Her forehead is no long creased with concerned and her lips are pulled up in a soft smile. She looks young, innocent, like the day’s events hadn’t happened. Her head is falling onto his shoulder, and though every fiber in him says to retract… he can’t help but to marvel in the feeling.

Gradually she’s pulled into sleep, Ethan right behind her.

***

“Leah… Leah, wake up,” Ethan gently nudges her until she stirs.

She bolts straight up, rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her hands. She glances at the incubator, a broad smile dominating her face at the sight of a very-alive Ethan Hudson. “He made it!” She exclaims, relief filling her voice.

“And he’s getting stronger,” Ethan beams back, motioning towards his vitals.

Dr. Remini’s smile doesn’t falter as she gazes upon the screen. She reaches for her phone, eyes going slightly wide at whatever she reads. “Oh, crap. I have rounds in twenty minutes. I need to get a shower,” she says in a rush, gathering up the blanket he had placed over her and folding it neatly.

“I’ll sit with him a bit longer,” he assures her.

She stands up with a wide stretch, a few pops come from her tensed back. She reaches into the incubator, lightly stroking the baby’s side. “Hang in there, little one,” she soothes, looking at him warmly.

“Leah?” Ethan’s voice stops her at the doorway. “Thank you.”

Her lips curve up as she looks upon him, and for a second he thinks she’s about to say something, but then she walks away. He sits back down on the worn couch, nursing his second cup of coffee of the morning. He watches as the baby’s lung expand and deflate much easier than they did last night. The grief of Dolores’s death still lingers like lead in his blood, but he feels lighter knowing that her baby will live on, and that her death didn’t mean nothing.

The space besides him dips down, indicating that someone took a seat next to him. Momentarily he thinks it’s Dr. Remini coming back, but that’s foolish to think considering her shifts about to start. He cranes his neck to look over, and has to suppress an eyeroll at who he sees. Harper gazes at baby Ethan, her eyes soft as she reads the last name. She knew Dolores, too. Ethan had mention her plenty of times for Harper to recognize whose baby this must be.

“I heard what happened to Dolores. I’m so sorry, Ethan. How are you holding up?” She asks tenderly.

Ethan doesn’t bother to give her his full attention. “I’d rather not discuss it,” he clears his throat. “Are you here for a reason?”

Her eyes stay locked on his face, her jaw ticking at his dismissiveness. “Ethan…,” she sighs, deciding to let go of the hopes to have a decent conversation with him. “I’m about to inform the interns about the competition for the diagnostics team. Being the head of it, I would like for you to be there.”

“No.”

“Ethan--,”

“I’m going to talk to Naveen first and hear his explanation for all of this,” he stands up and briskly walks out of the room.

***

His heart thuds violently in his chest as he pounds vigorously on the thick wooden door. Birds chip around him in the luscious green scenery, the muffled sounds of flowing water echoing behind them. Ethan wishes he could take a moment to deeply inhale and let the unpolluted air cleanse his lungs, but the matter at hand is keeping him from doing anything but bang harder on the door. For a moment his mind deludes him into thinking that he’d been misled by Naveen’s whereabouts, but the sound of raucous coughing coming from inside the house puts his racing thoughts at ease. There’s a shuffling of feet, a sharp inhale of breath, and the door slowly creaking up.

A man stands in front of him, one of familiarity but an expanse of miniscule changes that only a trained eye can pick up. He’s slightly skinnier, his clothes a little less fitted and causing an illusion of slouch. His hair is uncharacteristically unkept. His eyes a little more hollowed and darkened with sleep deprivation. To a bystander he would look perfectly well, but to Ethan, who has known Naveen for his entire career at Edenbrook, knows there is something vastly concerning about the entirety of his appearance.

Naveen cracks his infamous smile, his eyes lighting up fondly as they fall onto his old friend. “Ethan! I was wondering when you’d make your way over,” he clasps Ethan on his shoulder, his grip weaker than Ethan remembers.

“It looks like we’re both full of questions, doesn’t it?” Ethan mutters uncomfortably.

Naveen swings open the door wider, revealing the cozy interior of his living room. “Come on in – you’re in luck. I’ve just started the kettle. I know you’re much more of a coffee drinker but tea is a happy medium, yeah?”

Ethan wearily steps into the warmly lit house and briefly scans his surroundings. The living room walls are made up of dark oak wood, the floors a more amber pine. Knickknacks line the fireplace mantle as it glows from the burning wood placed inside. A robust smelling candle flickers on the coffee table set in front of the couch. The atmosphere plunges itself into the allure of comfort, forgoing the overflowing waste baskets of tissues and empty ibuprofen bottles.

Naveen leads his friend into the kitchen where a tea kettle is whistling. Ethan takes perch on one of the dining table chairs, his eyes glued to the man who is busing himself with sorting through the teas and selecting the right sized mugs. The countertops are barren of food, and out of curiosity Ethan wants to open the fridge to see if it is stark comparison. Naveen always had homemade meals at work, and at the very least fresh fruit to snack on. The glaring sight of food scarcity is making Ethan sway on uneasiness.

“Does Irish Breakfast sound good?” Naveen asks.

“That’s fine,” Ethan confirms.

Naveen shuffles over with two steaming mugs of tea. He gently places one down in front of Ethan, and then sits down in the adjacent seat. He brings his mug up to his lips and takes a long, careful sip. Ethan watches him warily. The kettle came off the stove a mere two minutes ago, and though it was transferred to a room temperature cup, the tea should not be cooled down nearly enough for him to be able to comfortably drink it. Ethan brings his own mug to his lips, flinching as the scorching hot liquid burns his tongue.

He sets the mug down, casting Naveen a long, even look. “I know there’s more that you’re not telling me, Naveen.”

Naveen lets his forced smile slip from his face, a look of discomfort taking over. “I see your intuition and perception are still undeniably keen…,” he sighs at the look Ethan’s giving him. “I’m sick, Ethan, and I have no diagnosis.”

Ethan eyebrows raise an inch as he gazes upon the most skilled diagnostician that he knows. How is the person, the one who has taught him everything that he knows, unable to draw a conclusion of his own body’s ailments? Ethan takes a moment to rack his brain for a logical answer, and what he comes to terms with, is that Naveen’s state of mind isn’t sharp due to his condition; therefore hindering his ability to diagnose himself.

“There must be something you’re missing,” he decides certainly. “I would like to assume that you’ve done a full blood workup, but have you considered-,”

“Yes, Ethan. I can assure you that I’ve done every lab imaginable. Every result has come back inconclusive, and I’m afraid my options at this point are rather limited,” Naveen interjects, sighing wistfully before taking another sip of his tea.

Ethan allows himself to soak in his friend’s words, though he isn’t entirely sure he’s convinced. There must be something a second pair of eyes can do in regards of finding an explanation, and he’s sure he could talk Naveen into it. “What does Harper think about all of this? I’m sure she’ll pitch in her best efforts to help find you an answer.”

“She doesn’t know and you won’t tell her,” Naveen sends Ethan a stern look. “I’ve come to terms with my morality and I would rather not spend whatever time I have left staring at a sterile hospital wall.”

The determined gleam set firmly in Naveen’s eyes make the reality of the situation hit Ethan harder than he’d like. His throat suddenly feels thick as though he ate a tub of glue, and the back of his eyes are prickling with the sensation of incoming tears. He’s faced problems like this before with a multitude of patients, the patients who are told they are terminal and have six months to live, the patients who had no chance of surviving the moment they stepped into the hospital. But this was his mentor, the man he’s looked up to you since he was an intern, and he’d be damned if he gave up on him now.

“I can check you into the unfinished hospital wing under a pseudonym and make sure no one discovers that you are there. I will visit you every day and spend every free moment I have searching medical books to find out what is wrong with you,” Ethan’s voice is on the brink of pleading and desperation.

“Ethan, I don’t want--,”

“Naveen. Please.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and underneath it is the fragile boy whose mom left him years ago without a word.

Naveen stares at him with a heavy gaze. They lapse into a moment of silence where Ethan is afraid that the pounding of his heart will be audible in the starkly quiet room. Naveen searches his eyes, trying to find a sliver of hope that if he declines it won’t absolutely break Ethan. But now there are tears forming in the normally-guarded blue irises, and Naveen knows Ethan will never forgive himself if he doesn’t try with all of his might to fix him.

“Okay,” Naveen allows, not sure the difference between giving up and giving in. “But if you don’t find an answer… I ask that you allow me to return home.”

***

Ethan stands behind Harper in the auditorium, his arms firmly crossed over his chest as a sea of physicians gather around Harper and him. The lot of them hold confused expressions as they murmur to one another, most likely wondering why Harper had called this meeting. He spots Dr. Remini in the crowd, her expression is more curious than anything. 

“As you’ve all undoubtedly heard by now, Dr. Banerji has retired… which means the diagnostics team now has one open position. Instead of filling that role, we will be selecting one young doctor to train with the team as a junior fellow. Interns, one of you will be the newest member of Edenbrook’s diagnostics team under Dr. Ramsey,” Harper informs the crowd. There is an uproar of chatter as eyes dart jealously over to the interns, and as the interns exchange a look of being petrified yet thrilled. 

“This is an incredible opportunity for one of you to spend you residency facing the most difficult cases imaginable. Keyword: one. We will be ranking you daily. The best performing intern at the end of your first year will be selected,” Ethan announces. “If you want to compete, tell me by tomorrow night, midnight. And I warn you, the selection process will be ruthless. I’d advise you to sit this out. If you choose to ignore that advice... Good luck.”

Ethan walks away before anyone can pester him about the sudden news. Luckily, all the interns are still frozen is shock to be able to notice his departure. Well, of course not all of them… “Dr. Ramsey! Wait,” Dr. Remini catches up to him. “Was this what you were talking about with Dr. Emery yesterday?”

“What? How did you--,” he shakes his head, noting that he shouldn’t be surprised. Dr. Remini seems to know everything that goes on in this hospital. “Hrm. I suppose the secret’s out now…,”

“But… you told her we weren’t ready,” she recalls, apparently uncomfortable with the prospect of joining the diagnostic team so early on in her career,

“You’re not….,” he meets her eye. “… But are any of us ever really ready for anything?”


End file.
